The Long Road Home
by RosesAndRevolutions
Summary: Voldemort isn't the worst thing Harry will have to face this year and it's going to take every ounce of support from the people he loves to get through this latest turn of events. A sick!Harry fic centered around, but not completely following, Book 7!
1. Chapter 1

**AN : **Hi Everyone! I'm new to the world of writing fan fiction and this is my very first fic. I've been reading fics for many many years, but this is my first time to venture into the world of writing and I'm very excited! I would be ever so grateful for any comments/feedback/constructive criticism you might have, but please be kind to me. I'm quite nervous about posting, especially given that my background is about as far away from creative writing as you can get (I'm an engineer), so if you like the fic I could really use the encouragement! I also don't have a Beta, so if there are any big grammar or spelling mistakes in here I apologize. I'm an angst monster, I absolutely love it, and I basically roam around gobbling up whatever I can find :) I've read a lot of stories, and I have a feeling some of that will end up influence my writing down the road. If any of you see bits from your own stories in here, I really apologise! It's definitely an accidental slip, but I thought I'd throw a disclaimer in here for good measure.

Speaking of disclaimers, Harry Potter is not mine. Unfortunately. Kudos to J. for creating such a marvelous sandbox for us all to play in! I definitely don't own these characters, and don't make any money off of them.

This is the classic sick fic, with some angsty Harry thrown in there for my (and hopefully your) enjoyment! This semi-ish follows the plots of Books 6 and 7. The whole horcrux hunting thing is in here, but written in my own way, so please don't slam me if events don't really follow the book. This is my story, I do what I want! :) For instance, Sirius is still alive. Why, you might ask? Because I really like him. Making up my own rules is fun! :)

Alright, everybody, let's get started. Here … we … go!

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**The Long Road Home : Chapter 1**

Harry was still clutching Dumbledore's robes when he realized they had safely apparated back to Dumbledore's office._ We survived_, Harry thought. Dumbledore was kneeling weakly on the ground, and Harry reached over to help him ease into one of the plush velvet armchairs Dumbledore was so adept at conjuring.

_The locket_, Harry thought. _Where is the locket_? He twisted his head around searchingly, then looked down and saw it dangling between Dumbledore's charred fingers. This was the third Horcrux. This was what Dumbledore risked his own life for. This is what Harry almost drowned in that cave for. A silly golden locket. It seemed silly, of course, until Harry really took the time to look at it. _This thing_, he thought, _This tiny little thing holds one seventh of Tom Riddle's soul_. _One seventh of the soul who has killed thousands without a second thought. One seventh of the soul that stole my parents and destroyed my childhood. How can one seventh of all that fit in this?_

Harry looked up and saw Dumbledore staring at him with that knowing look in his eyes. Harry had the distinct feeling that Dumbledore could tell, just from looking at him, what was on his mind. Before either of them could say a word, Dumbledore quickly shoved the locket into his dressing gown pocket and maneuvered over to his desk. He still looked rather unsteady from all of the potion he consumed in the cave, and Harry found that disconcerting. For some reason, Harry always thought of Dumbledore as more than human. Superhuman, almost, although the word sounded funny in his head. For someone who carried the weight of so many burdens, Dumbledore always kept such a level head. Never over-emotional or hasty, but always calm and composed; the kind of person who couldn't be fazed. But sitting with him tonight, in that cave, and listening him say those things and watching him fall apart like he did really scared Harry. It wasn't a position Harry ever wanted to find himself in again.

"Is there anything I can get you?" Harry asked. "Anything you need?"

"No", Dumbledore said. "It has been quite an exciting night for the two of us, hasn't it?" and Harry just nodded. There was a silence between them when Dumbledore looked up at an old grandfather clock sitting in a dusty corner of the room. Harry saw Dumbledore jerk before he spoke hastily, "I think what we could both use now is a good night's sleep, Harry. It's almost half past eleven, well past curfew, and I must ask that you return to your quarters at this moment. Please don't dally."

Harry could hear the urgency in Dumbledore's voice, and wondered what had happened to cause such an immediate change in his mood. Harry wanted Dumbledore to tell him more about the locket, and Horcruxes, and what his role was in all of this, but he could tell this was not the proper time. "Goodnight, Mr. Potter", Dumbledore said, and Harry could tell this was Dumbledore's way of politely forcing him out.

As Harry got up to leave, he paused for a moment next to the door, then turned and said "Goodnight, Professor."

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Harry was almost up the stairs leading to the Griffyndor common room, when he felt that constant throb in the back of his head growing more intense. _Fantastic, _Harry thought. _As if this day hasn't been long enough already, I get to sit here and watch Voldie TV streaming live through my head! I wish there was someway to cancel my subscription. _As often as these visions seemed to be happening lately, Harry still hadn't gotten used to them. He stumbled over to the wall and braced himself for the onslaught of pain that was about to come. The throbbing quickly escalated to a searing pain, and Harry found himself doubled over against the wall clutching his head. His whole body was shaking with exertion, when the searing pain turned blinding, and he could hear the sounds of his pain-filled screams reverberating off the stone staircase. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, desperately willing the pain to go away. He could hear the sounds of footsteps echoing in the distance, when he was suddenly transported behind the eyes of his enemy…

##### _The full moon was rising over the Black Lake and Dumbledore was standing in the center of the Astronomy Tower, surrounded by Death Eaters. Voldemort was standing inside the circle with Dumbledore, and from his perspective, Harry instantly recognized Fenrir Greyback, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Lucius Malfoy. _Lucius Malfoy? _Harry thought. _Isn't supposed to be safely locked away in Azkaban right now? _but Harry's thoughts were quickly interrupted when a new figure joined the circle. _

"Ahh, Draco my boy", _Voldemort announced. _"Albus, I would like to introduce you to the latest member of our little club. It seems as if Draco has decided to follow in his father's footsteps and join the winning side of our war."

_Harry noticed a certain sadness in Dumbledore's eyes, and from what little Harry could see of Draco, he did not appear overly enthusiastic about his new place among the Death Eaters. If anything there was a hint of remorse in his features. _

"As the newest recruit, Draco has been given the distinct honor of going down in history as the wizard responsible for taking the life of the great and powerful, Albus Dumbledore. He is very grateful for this opportunity, aren't you Draco?" _Voldemort sneered. _

"Yes, my lord", _Draco mumbled shakily. He stared at Dumbledore, his eyes pleading for forgiveness and a way out of this_.

"Draco, son, you don't have to do this", _Dumbledore pleaded._ "There is always a way out. Put down your wand, and leave this place at once. You have a choice between right and …"

"Enough of this!" _Voldemort interjected._ "Kill him this instant, Draco, or I will strike you down myself."

_With tears streaming down his eyes, Draco raised his wand, trembling in his hand, and whispered, "Avada Ke-" #####_

As his vision abruptly pulled out from behind the Dark Lord's eyes, the stabbing pain quickly overwhelmed him, and he felt himself crumple to the ground as he lost the contents of his stomach. He felt the touch of soft hands gently massaging his temples and the sound of Hermione's gentle voice quietly ushering people back into the common room. The pain was slowly lessening and he could hear Hermione cast a quick Scourgify charm to clean up what was left on the steps from his dinner. Harry was so exhausted all he really wanted to do was fall asleep in Hermione's lap, but he knew he had to warn Professor Dumbledore before it was too late. At any moment now he would be walking into a trap, and Harry had to save him. _Must be that quintessential Griffyndor hero complex Snape always mocks us for_, Harry thought.

He tried to push himself off of the ground, but Hermione forced him to stay. "Rest, Harry. You need to rest", she said as she brushed some of the fringe off of his forehead. "Madame Pomfrey is on her way right now with some potions for your headache, and Ron and I are going to help you into bed once she's finished." Her cool fingers were soothing against his burning scar, but he couldn't let himself relax.

"No", Harry cried, his voice not nearly as strong as he would have liked. "No, Hermione, there is no time to waste. Get back to the common room, make sure everyone is accounted for, and seal the door behind you. Send a patronus to Professor McGonagall and make sure the same is done for each of the other houses. The Death Eaters are on their way, and they'll be here any minute." Harry pushed his way out of Hermione's arms, and started off back down the staircase. His body still shaking and that painful throbbing still present at the base of his skull.

"Harry, you're in no condition to be going anywhere, what do you think you're doing? Come back here! Harry, please."

"Hermione", Harry pleaded, "please just do as I say. They're after Dumbledore and I have to get to him first! There isn't much time." And with that, Harry disappeared around the corner.

Hermione, her anger with Harry quickly replacing itself with worry, did as Harry instructed and ran back for the common room.

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When she arrived, the room was full of loud chattering about what they had all just witnessed in the stairwell. "Everyone", Hermione yelled, "I need everyone to be quiet and listen to me right now." She was surprised at how authoritative her own voice sounded in that moment. "I need every seventh year to find one partner in each of the years below him, so that each person is in a group of seven. There are twenty-three students in each year, so we should end up with twenty-three groups of seven." As everyone began to partner off, Hermione turned to the door and cast every locking charm and wall-strengthening spell she knew. She would worry about figuring out how to take the spells down after this whole ordeal was over.

When she was finished she turned around and saw that everyone was separated into their groups, with one group of six students waiting for her to join them. She panicked briefly when she noticed one other group missing a person. _Harry,_ she thought. _Of course, without him we're one 6__th__ year short_, and her heart began to fill with worry again. She conjured a patronus and it gave it the message Harry had given her. As her otter went swimming through the air and off to find Professor McGonagall, she quietly walked over to the large couch in front of the fireplace and sat down. Ron came and sat down beside her, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.

"He'll be alright, 'Mione", Ron said. "No matter what, Harry always comes out alright in the end."

"I know, I just don't think I could stand it if anything ever happened to him. He's just so impulsive, you know?" Hermione sighed. "I don't think he ever really thinks anything through before he does is it. I mean, is he really equipped to take on Death Eaters right now?"

"Hey, you don't get to be The Boy Who Lived without some good luck, right?" Ron said with a smirk and gently nudged her in the shoulder.

Hermione laughed softly, "That's not even funny, Ronald."

Trying to find some way to take her mind off of what was happening around her, Ron said "Come on 'Mione, let's go sit with Seamus and Neville while we wait for Harry to get back", and they both got off of the couch to find their friends.

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**What do y'all think so far?**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN : **Just for clarification, the visions Harry receives from Voldemort are premonitions of the future, not events as they are actually occurring. Therefore, Harry has the power to change what he sees in these visions!

Also, a special shoutout to futureauthor62! You are my first reviewer EVER, and it gave me all kinds of warm fuzzies. I may or may not have been waiting up to see if anyone would comment on my story. Pathetic? I know …

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**The Long Road Home : Chapter 2**

Harry's chest was heaving from exertion by the time he reached statue guarding Dumbledore's office. He recited the password he had used less than an hour before "Liqourice Wheel", and then ascended the short steps to the headmaster's chambers. Upon first glance, the headmaster was no longer sitting behind the large desk where Harry had last left him. _Maybe he's in the study or gone to bed, _Harry thought, and he continued searching the area, looking and listening for any signs of Dumbledore. It felt odd to Harry, being in the headmaster's office all by himself. Almost like his presence in that place was an invasion of Dumbledore's privacy.

As he looked around he noticed the headmaster's office was a veritable museum, with wizarding relics from generations past scattered on the wall and stuffed into glass cabinets. Harry recognized the Sorting Hat, used to place all first years into their houses, sitting atop a bookcase and he couldn't help but think back to his first few days at Hogwarts. He was in a whole new school, hell a whole new world, by himself and he was so nervous. He remembered meeting Ron and Hermione for the first time and how much those friendships had come to mean to him over the years, and then he thought about where they all were now. So many things had changed since those first few days, but Ron and Hermione have always been a constant presence in his life. They adopted him into their families, and for the first time he knew what it felt like to be loved. He knew the journey ahead of him was not going to be easy, but he had a family now, and somehow that made the burden of the future a little bit lighter. Suddenly remembering the urgency of the situation he currently found himself in, he quickly shook himself out of that thought, and continued on in his search.

After a few minutes, he had exhausted all accessible places and decided that, from what he could tell, Dumbledore was not in his office. He was heading back for the door when movement in the peripheral of his vision caught his attention. It was Phineas Nigellus Black, one of Hogwarts' least favored headmasters, peering out from his portrait behind one half-closed eye. Phineas was trying to give off the impression he was asleep but wasn't doing a very good job. He was known for enjoying the spread of good gossip and Harry had the distinct feeling he had been watching him the entire time. _Of course!_ Harry thought. _If anyone could tell him where Dumbledore went, it would be the portraits! _

"Phineas", Harry called. "I know you're awake, please open your eyes. I have a question for you and there is no time to waste!"

Phineas grumbled, his ruse shattered, and began to straighten up in his chair. Harry was sure he could hear swearing under Phineas' breath, something about demanding little school children, but nevertheless he sat up and gave Harry his attention.

"Phineas, I need you to tell me where Professor Dumbledore is. Has he gone to bed or did he leave?" Harry asked.

"What do I look like to you, boy, his personal secretary?" Phineas sneered.

"No, it's just …" Harry groaned in frustration, "Sir, I really need you to tell me where he's gone. He may be in real trouble and if so I have to get to him quickly!"

"Bloody Gryffindors," Phineas mumbled. "Last I saw, Professor Snape had Albus at wandpoint and was directing him out the door. I do not know where they went from there."

"I do", Harry said softly. _Snape, _he thought. _Snape is the one who forced him up to the tower! That traitor._ "How long ago was that? Do you know?"

"I'd say no later than five minutes before you arrived", Phineas replied. "Now if you are quite finished with this interrogation, I have other matters to attend to."

Harry gave the former headmaster an odd look. _What other matters could you possibly have? _Harry thought. _You live in a picture frame for Merlin's sake._ He quickly excused himself, and then hurried out the door.

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He had just reached the lower platform of the Astronomy Tower when he heard voices coming from above. There were eight pairs of feet standing, wands raised, in a circle around two other pairs. _This is just how the vision started_, Harry thought. At that moment, he recognized his fellow 6th year and Slytherin classmate, Draco Malfoy, being directed into the circle. _There isn't much time left now_, he thought, and he raced up the remaining steps.

He kept one ear open to the commotion upstairs and just as he reached the top, he heard Draco mouthing the beginnings of the worst Unforgivable Curse. At that moment, time seemed to slow down for Harry. His eyes were fixed on the headmaster and Harry stood frozen, as he watched Dumbledore raise his pointer finger and summon Draco's wand to himself. He used the wand to fire a stunning spell on Draco, then turned and raised his wand to the other occupant in the circle, his former star pupil, Tom Riddle. In the space of only a second, the tide had turned completely. _That's what happens when you underestimate Albus Dumbledore_, Harry thought. For a moment, all Harry could do was watch, his limbs paralyzed with shock. No one around the edge of the circle was moving, their eyes transfixed on the two wizards in the center. To Harry's fortune, it appeared no one had noticed the presence of the Gryffindor 6th year, either.

For a moment there was no movement, when suddenly one of the Death Eaters broke from his position around the circle and stepped in to raise his wand to Dumbledore. The Death Eater had his back turned to Harry but he would recognize that voice anywhere. Professor Snape. Snape's hand was strong and steady, as he held the tip of his wand to the Dumbledore's throat. _Why the headmaster ever trusted that man I will never know_, Harry thought, as he turned his full attention back to the circle.

"Lower your wand, at once", Professor Snape spoke, as he stepped closer to the headmaster, their eyes only inches apart.

"Please, Severus, don't do this", Dumbledore whispered pleadingly, "I believe that you are better than this."

In his mind, Harry could see where this confrontation was leading, and decided the time to intervene was now or never. He stepped out from behind the pillar which had been previously obscuring his body from view, and charged the circle, his arm raised to the potions master.

"Expelliarmus", Harry yelled, and the wand went flying from Snape's hand. It took everyone a moment to recognize the new presence.

"Harry, no! Harry, get down!" Dumbledore yelled, the shock evident on his face, and at that moment a curse came spiraling toward Harry, narrowly avoiding his shoulder. The director of the curse was Peter Pettigrew, the man who betrayed Harry's parents the night they died. Dumbledore shoved Pettigrew back with all of his might, and the animagus went flying backward and toppled over the railing, a look of panic on his face before he fell. The Death Eaters began firing curses at Harry as he protected himself behind another pillar, one cutting jinx grazing his forearm as he reached out to block their spells. Dumbledore ran toward Harry, easily deflecting any spells that came in his way, and used himself as a shield for Harry. The Death Eaters were no match for Dumbledore.

Voldemort, sensing things would not end in his favor tonight, apparated away, leaving his Death Eaters to fend for themselves.

Fearing they were fighting a loosing battle, the Death Eaters retreated from the Astronomy Tower to the Room of Requirements, where the Vanishing Cabinet they had arrived in was waiting for them. None noticed when Severus Snape did not follow. Harry began to chase them, when he felt a strong hand pull at the collar of his shirt. He whipped his head around to find the very angry eyes of Professor Dumbledore staring back into his. Without speaking, he steered Harry back towards his office.

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When they finally reached the headmaster's chambers, Dumbledore thrust Harry into the chair closest to his desk. It also, Harry was coming to discover, happened to be the most uncomfortable. He could tell Dumbledore was giving himself a moment to calm down, before he said anything. Harry, knowing he had put himself in grave danger but feeling entirely justified in his actions, remained silent.

"What, in the world, possessed you to come up to the tower tonight", Dumbledore yelled, his voice booming through the expansive office. At once, every portrait was awake and attentive, not wanting to miss out on the drama of the evening.

Harry, suddenly feeling very timid, spoke "Sir, I'm so sorry. After I left I had a vision of you on the tower, surrounded by Death Eaters, and Draco, with his wand raised. I just … I guess I just didn't want anything to happen to you."

"Harry, do you realize how foolish you are?" his voice seething with anger. "You could have gotten yourself killed, as well as myself and Professor Snape."

"Professor Snape?" Harry screamed, his confidence now returning, "Professor Snape? Who cares about him! He almost killed you himself up there!"

"Harry, you do not possess full knowledge of the situation. If you did, you would realize the seriousness of the mistake you made tonight. I do not give orders for my own enjoyment. When I tell you to go somewhere and stay, I mean it."

Before Harry's mind had time to process what was just said, a realization slipped from his lips. "You knew?" His eyes were full of question. "You knew they were coming?"

Before Dumbledore could answer, a tall black figure came bursting through the door. Instinctively, Harry raised his wand and directed it at the chest of the man who only minutes ago, had tried to kill the headmaster. "Harry, calm down", but Harry was no longer paying attention to Dumbledore. "Harry, lower your wand immediately. That is an order." Harry began to protest, then slowly brought his hand down to his side. Only now did he realize that arm was bleeding from his encounter with Peter Pettigrew up on the tower.

"Severus, what is the damage?" Dumbledore asked.

"It appears Pettigrew was the only casualty, Albus. His body is being recovered as we speak."

"And were any children harmed?", the headmaster asked hesitantly.

"It appears they were all locked safely inside their dormitories when the Death Eaters arrived. Someone must have had some foresight on the matter."

Dumbledore glanced down at Harry, a relieved look spread across his face, and Harry silently thanked Hermione for listening to him.

"And what of your cover?" Dumbledore inquired, the anger in his voice beginning to die off.

"Despite the interruption", Snape sneered, "Everything still went along almost entirely as planned."

_Cover? Plan? _Harry's mind was reeling. _How did Dumbledore know this was coming? Was Severus really and truly a spy? _From what Harry saw earlier, Snape was one breath away from killing the headmaster.

"By stepping in for Draco, I was able to assure the Dark Lord of my loyalty to him, while sparing Draco the pain of taking another's life. I do not believe he will question my allegiances again."

"Good", Dumbledore spoke. For a reason Harry did not yet understand, there was a somberness to Dumbledore's demeanor.

"Of course," Snape said softly, "not everything went according to plan." There was a rare hint of sadness in his voice, that Harry did not think the professor was even capable of producing.

"Yes I know, Severus, but we will leave that for another day," Dumbledore said quietly, and a silence settled over the room. Harry could feel an unspoken tension the headmaster and the potions professor. _They were all still alive, no one else had gotten hurt, and one Death Eater was dead. What else did Dumbledore want?_ Harry thought.

Snape felt the scar on his forearm burning, and he looked up at Dumbledore. "I'm being summoned", he spoke, and Dumbledore nodded. Snape approached the headmaster's fireplace, grabbed a fistful of floo powder, then disappeared behind the dust.

"Professor, I don't understand what's going on. You knew there would be an attack tonight, which means you willing followed Snape to that tower! And Snape! He tried to kill you and you ju …" but before Harry could go any farther, his head exploded with pain. His knees buckled, and he fell back into the chair he was sitting earlier. _Voldemort_, Harry thought. He brought his head down between his knees, hoping that might alleviate the pain, but to no avail. Dumbledore rushed over to him from behind his desk, and put his hands on Harry's knees. "Harry, look at me. Please, Harry, just look at me. I can help", Dumbledore spoke, his voice laced with concern. With all the energy he could muster, Harry lifted his head and looked at the headmaster, his eyes squinting with pain. "What's happening, son? Tell me what you see", but Harry wasn't seeing anything. "Feel, I just feel him", Harry cried. "He's so angry. He was expecting you to die tonight, but I foiled his plan," and Harry rubbed his forehead against his palms, trying anything to make the pain go away. Dumbledore moved Harry's hand and placed his own against the scar, sending soothing waves of energy through the connection. Harry leaned into Dumbledore's hand, welcoming the relief.

Almost instantly the pain began to recede, and Harry was finally able to see clearly again. He felt a cold metallic liquid running down the back of his throat, and noticed red splotches appearing on his pants. _Blood? _Harry thought. _This is definitely a first. Pain was typical, but blood definitely was not_. Harry tried to conceal his reaction, and looked back up at Dumbledore. Dumbledore, not having witnessed one of Harry's visions in quite some time, applied a clotting charm to Harry's nose to stem the bleeding, then ran a hand through Harry's thick mob of black hair. It felt very grandfatherly to Harry, and he quite enjoyed it. It was nice to be taken care of sometimes, and for a moment Harry forgot about the thousands of questions he had for the headmaster.

Dumbledore helped him out of the chair, and held onto his arm as Harry steadied himself. The loss of blood giving him a bit of a head rush. Despite Dumbledore's best efforts, there was still a deep throbbing pain present in his head. "Professor", Harry finally spoke, "I'd still like to know what happened tonight".

Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment, knowing this topic wouldn't go away. "You will, son, but right now is not the time. It's has been a very long, very trying night, and as much as you are trying to hide it, I see you can barely keep your eyes open."

Harry thought about protesting, but the headmaster was right. All he really wanted to do right now was go to sleep, and put this day behind him. Dumbledore smiled softly at him then said "Harry, why don't we all get a good night's sleep tonight and we can talk in the morning. I will do my best to explain what I can." There was silence in the room while Harry pondered the offer. "Come on, I will escort you back to the Gryffindor tower." This seemed to appease Harry, and Dumbledore gently lead him toward the common room.

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When they arrived at the door, Harry began to prepare himself for the onslaught of questions from his peers. He really wasn't ready to deal with them right now, and hoped that by now everyone might be asleep. _Highly unlikely_, Harry thought, _but it would be nice._

Dumbledore spent the next few minutes applying unlocking charms to the door. "Clever girl, that Miss Granger. She used a few spells even I wouldn't have thought of", Dumbledore pointed out with admiration.

"How could you tell it was her, Sir?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore looked down at him and smirked, "Who else could it have been?"

Harry couldn't argue with that and let out a slight laugh. As the doors opened, his fears were met in the form of a large mob of Gryffindors trying to get a look at Harry. He could only image the kind of rumors his episode in the staircase had stirred up. All he wanted to do was get through them and up to his room, and he was thankful when Dumbledore finally spoke up. "Everyone, return to your beds immediately. I will address the events of this evening with the entire school tomorrow, but for right now Mr. Potter is to be left alone. 100 points will be deducted from this house for every person I hear trying to bother him for information. Is that understood?" Nods of consent could be seen from each student, and they looked at each other with disappointment. Relieved, Harry began to walk toward the steps to his room, and the crowd parted for him.

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When he reached his room, he sat down in his bed and began to remove his shoes. The room was empty and it was clear his roommates were trying to give him some space. As he pulled off his socks and began to lie down, Ron and Hermione came in to check on him.

"Harry", Hermione spoke softly as she approached his bed, "are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Hermione", he mumbled, his eyes already closed. "Mmm just really tired, that's all"

"You're clothes are all dirty, mate. Don't you want to get dressed for bed?" Ron chimed in.

"Don't care", was all Harry had the energy to say.

"Harry, you're bleeding. Did you know that?" Hermione asked, trying to keep her voice down. It was evident all Harry really wanted to do was go to sleep.

"Mehhh", he spoke, his voice laden with exhaustion, "Don't care."

Hermione laughed. _Of course he doesn't care, _she thought. _He could have a hole straight through his chest and he still wouldn't care enough about himself to do anything about it._

"Alright", she whispered. "Just relax. It's finally time for you to get some rest", and Harry just smiled. _Rest, _he thought. _That sounds so nice right now_, and he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Hermione sat on the edge of his bed and conjured a warm towel, a bowl of water, and some bandages. She set to work gently wiping the blood from underneath his nose, and the sweat and dirt from off of his face. She cleaned the wound on his arm and tenderly wrapped the cut in gauze and a bandage to keep it from opening again. Once she finished, she conjured a thick woolen blanket and draped it across his body, being careful not to wake him up. She pulled the edge of the blanket up to beneath his chin, then softly kissed him on the forehead. _He would be so embarrassed to know I just did that_, she thought with a slight smile on her face. "Sweet dreams", she whispered, then extinguished the light next to his bed.

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**What did y'all think? Don't forgot to leave me a review on your way out!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN : ** Alrighty, here's the next chapter! I think I got a little ahead of myself, posting my chapters before I'd finished fleshing out the plot. If there are some inconsistencies, I apologize! I might slow down a bit and get everything in order before I post another chapter. Or I might just keep posting and deal with the inconsistencies later. Who knows! This is my first story, so it's a bit of a learning experience and it won't be perfect on the first try.

Sorry if this chapter is a little bit boring. I needed to have this long conversation between Harry and Dumbledore to set up the plot for the rest of the story. Unfortunately, I'm trying to make this semi-follow book 7, which means I have to re-write most of the things you already know. If you hate it, I apologize, but stick with me!

Alright, enjoy!

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**The Long Road Home : Chapter 3**

Harry awoke the next day to sunlight streaming through the large window in his room in the Gryffindor tower. From the placement of sun in the sky, he judged it was mid-morning. He stretched his arms over his head, glad to have gotten a full night's sleep, and noticed the bandage on his arm. _That must have been Hermione,_ he thought, a smile creeping onto his face_, because it certainly wasn't Ron! _His roommates were gone and he couldn't hear the typical clatter of noise filtering up from the common room, so he guessed everyone was out. If he was correct on the time they were probably all at the Leaving Feast by now. _Great_, he thought, the events of last night returning to him. At some point Dumbledore would, as promised, be telling everyone about the Death Eater's attack and the role Harry had played in the whole ordeal. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was a bunch of chatty students looking to get the newest gossip by badgering him for details. _Luckily_, he thought, _everyone will be leaving tonight so I won't have to deal with them for much longer_. He was looking forward to getting away from Hogwarts for a little while, even if it meant spending time with the Dursleys.

Harry decided it was time to finally get out of bed, so he threw the blankets off and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His head was still throbbing painfully from the previous night and he thought he might seek out Madame Pomfrey for a pain potion before his classmates came back. As he pushed himself off from the bed, his vision began to swim and he started seeing double of everything. He closed his eyes, took a few steadying breaths, and when he opened a few moments later everything was back to normal. _Maybe I'm not as well rested as I thought_ he tried to convince himself, as he thought about the new symptoms that had be cropping up over the past few days. He wondered if he should tell someone about the increasingly painful headaches, the nosebleeds, and the double vision, but he told himself they were all part of the joys of getting a sneak peak at the future from Voldemort himself. Suddenly not feeling so enthusiastic about making the trip all the way to the hospital ward, Harry sat back down onto his bed. He glanced over to his bedside table and noticed a plate of food and a letter with his name on it. He opened up the letter and read it allowed to himself,

**Dear Harry,**

**I hope you are feeling much better this morning. I asked your roommates not to disturb you, as I thought you could use the extra rest.**

**By the time you read this I am sure you will be famished, so I have asked Dobby to provide you with breakfast. Please enjoy. I would appreciate it if you would meet me in my office this morning at eleven sharp to discuss some important matters.**

**The password is Hershey's kiss.**

**Sincerely, **

**Albus Dumbledore**

Harry folded the letter and put it back on the bedside table, his attention now entirely focused on the delicious selection of pastries Dobby had brought up for him. As he sat on his bed eating, he took a moment to relish the peace and quiet. Typically the dormitory was swarming with noisy students and he didn't think he'd ever heard it quite so silent. He polished off the last of his croissant, and glanced down at his watch. It was a quarter past ten. He decided to take a nice long shower then use the route that wound past the Divinations classroom to get to Professor Dumbledore's office. The Divinations classroom was in a rather obscure part of the castle, and somewhat out of the way for getting to the headmaster's office, but he thought it was the best way to avoid the throngs of students who would be exiting the Leaving Feast shortly.

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Harry arrived at the Headmaster's office a few minutes late, his detour around by the Divinations classroom took much longer than he expected. He gave the password to the gargoyle guarding the door, and walked up the stairs to meet the headmaster. Dumbledore was sitting behind his large desk, his head in his hands, staring at the locket he and Harry had retrieved last night and the ring they had discussed the previous night. That was the first, and up until now, only discussion of Horcruxes between the two of them. For a moment he did not realize Harry was there, and Harry felt as if he was intruding on a private moment. Dumbledore was lost in thought. Harry cleared his throat softly, not enough to startle the professor but enough to alert him of his presence. Dumbledore's eyes jerked up at Harry and a small smile broke out on his face.

"Ah! Harry, my boy. How are you this morning?"

"I'm fine, sir. Thank you for the breakfast, I really appreciated it. And the extra sleep was just what I needed", Harry answered honestly.

"I'm glad, I'm glad. I trust your fellow classmates weren't too much of a bother?" he inquired.

"Not at all, sir. I took a less common route here this morning, so I was able to avoid their questions, at least for a little while. By the way, sir, what is a Hershey's kiss?" he asked, inquisitively.

Dumbledore chuckled, "It's a delightful little chocolate candy. Years ago I received a call from the President of America about a troll incident in the mountains of Pennsylvania that required my assistance. Nasty business, really. Several muggles witnessed the event and there was considerable amount of damage control that needed to be done to prevent the story from making the headlines of newspapers. Anyway, he's been sending me a bag every Christmas since as a thank you gift!"

Harry laughed. The way to Dumbledore's heart has always been through his sweet tooth!

The smile on Dumbledore's face began to fade and he looked at Harry with seriousness in his eyes. "Harry I know you came here today for some answers, so why don't you sit down." Dumbledore ushered him onto a couch, and then sat himself in the armchair adjacent from Harry. Dumbledore smoothed out the wrinkles in his dressing gown, and then folded his hands in his lap. Harry, sensing Dumbledore's inability to decide how to begin the conversation, spoke up. "Horcruxes", he said, his eyes lifting to meet Dumbledore's. "I want to know more about Horcruxes."

"Well", Dumbledore pondered this for a second, "How much do you know already?"

"Not much, sir. Only what I've heard from you and from Professor Slughorn's memory, and the little research I've been able to do. There isn't much material in the library about them."

"No", Dumbledore spoke softly, "I don't believe there would be. It's not a subject that comes up very often."

"I know that they are used to hide bits of one's soul, and that Tom probably intended to create seven of them. But I don't know why he needed them, or if he was even successful in making all of them," Harry continued eagerly.

"Tom never did anything half-heartedly", he spoke, more to himself than Harry. "If it was his intention to create seven, then I am sure he succeeded." Dumbledore paused, letting the weight of situation settle onto him, "but we'll get back to that in a moment. A Horcrux, as you already know, is an object that someone uses to store a part of their soul. The reason he needs them is …" he paused again, trying to formulate his thoughts, "Well, as you can probably imagine, Voldemort is not, nor has he ever been, very popular in the wizarding world. His actions during the first war made him the target of every reasonably sane-minded witch and wizard. In creating these Horcruxes he ensured that even if his physical body were to 'shuffle off this mortal coil', as Shakespeare would say, he soul would still remain. Meaning, he would not truly be dead."

"What you mean, then," Harry began hesitantly, "is that in order to truly kill Voldemort, you have to make sure that all those little pieces of his soul are also destroyed first."

"You are correct, Harry"

Harry began to put the pieces together in his head. "So in the prophecy that Professor Trelawney spoke to you - the one from when I was baby - she said, 'either must die at the hands of the other'. She meant that the only way for me to not be the one who dies, is to make sure that I kill him first," Harry cringed, hating how those words sounded. "But the only way for me to kill him first is to make sure that when I kill him he is truly dead. And the only way to make sure he's truly dead is to make sure that no bits of his soul remain," his words rushing together. "Which means if I want to live to see the other side of the prophecy, I have to make sure all of the Horcruxes are destroyed before we meet."

Much more quietly this time, Dumbledore said, "Yes, once again, you are correct."

Harry gave this new piece of information a moment to sink in. Feeling the urgency of the situation, he asked "So these objects, how can you tell if they are Horcruxes?"

"Well", Dumbledore started, "objects of this nature leave behind a trace. An energy, you might say, that is perceptible to a person in very close proximity to that object."

"That's it?" Harry exclaimed. "An energy? That's the only way to distinguish a Horcrux from an ordinary object? That's a bit like looking for seven needles in a haystack, isn't it? How in the world am I supposed to find and destroy all of these objects before he finds me first?" A fear began to wash over Harry. Never did the seriousness of the situation seem more real to him than right now.

Dumbledore, sensing Harry's sudden change in mood, spoke up, "Harry these objects will not be random. They will mean something to Tom, and I imagine they will not be unguarded. At least not for much longer. In fact, Harry, you have already destroyed one yourself!"

"I have?" he said, a questioning look on his face.

"Yes, you have. Tom Riddle's diary, during your second year. That was the first Horcrux he created, while he was still a student here at Hogwarts. Even after that fateful night at Godric's Hollow, I had a deep suspicion that was not the last we would see of the self-proclaimed Dark Lord. The events in the Chamber of Secrets are what first tipped me off to what Tom might have done. Of course", he continued. "At that time he would have seen your destruction of his diary as collateral damage in your attempt to save Miss Weasley, and not a direct attack on his soul."

"So what happens once he finds out we're deliberately seeking out these Horcruxes?" Harry inquired.

"That, my boy, is the tricky part." Dumbledore paused for a moment to take in the sight of Harry. He was sitting on the couch, hunched over, wearing his usual jeans, tattered sweatshirt, and scuffed up tennis shoes, and looking very much like the sixteen-year-old boy he was. He hated burdening Harry with all of this information, but he felt it was necessary to prepare him for what would inevitably come. "He will, undoubtedly, begin pursuing the people responsible, in an effort to try and stop them."

As he let those words sink in, Harry subtly pinched himself on the arm, determined to discover whether or not this was all a dream. Part of him could not believe he was actually having this conversation with the headmaster, but the other part of him knew this was exactly what he had asked for. A little bit of honesty from the headmaster. He spoke again, sitting a little straighter this time. "So what your saying is that once the locket is destroyed, he will be on to us and from there it's a race against time. Find the rest of the Horcruxes before he kills us all."

"That's putting it quite bluntly, Harry, but yes. He is likely to increase the severity of his attacks once the fight to protect his soul begins."

"Wow", Harry said, more in shock than anything. This conversation was turning out to be much more troubling than he originally conceived. A piece of him longed for the innocent days before his years at Hogwarts, when his biggest concern was dodging Dudley's friends on the playground. However, he resolved it was better to face this situation head on, rather then pretend it would all go away by simply ignoring it. "So what are we waiting for? I mean, if what you're saying is true then there really is no time to lose. Between the diary, the locket, and the ring, we have three of the Horcruxes, but that means there are four still out there somewhere. The longer we take to find the rest, the more danger everyone is in, right? So where do we start? How did you even know about the locket or where to find it? Do you know where the rest are?" At this point, Harry was up on his feet, furiously pacing the area between the couch and Dumbledore's armchair. The constant motion helping to loosen the jumbled up thoughts in his head.

"Harry, child, please slow down," Dumbledore urged. Harry stopped his pacing and turned around to look at the professor. "I need you to sit back down while I finish what I have to say." Harry obliged.

"Harry, I'm telling you all of this so that you will be informed. You are, unfortunately, intrinsically linked to the fate of Voldemort, therefore, it is important for you to be aware of what must be done. However, destroying Horcruxes is not your responsibility. That is a matter for the Order of the Phoenix to attend to. They are wizards much more experienced and, I hate to say it, much less valuable than yourself." Harry's head jerked up, and Dumbledore could tell his words had not gone over well with the young Gryffindor.

"Wait, what?" Harry asked in disbelief. "Then what was the point of telling me all of that? Why not just keep me in the dark like you always have?" Harry asked, his frustration beginning to boil over.

"Because, my dear boy, I will not always be around to explain these things to you." Dumbledore spoke softly, his eyes shifting down to glance at his burnt hand. "As you know all too well, wizards can not live forever and one day I too must join our fallen brethren in the afterlife. And when that happens, I need you to be prepared, Harry. Because the road before you is not easy." There was a troubled look on Dumbledore's face, and Harry could feel his temper beginning to simmer down. He hated that he was unable to stay angry with the man he had come to regard as the closest thing he would ever have to a grandfather.

"Sir, is everything alright?" It was unusual for Dumbledore to speak so candidly and that was beginning to worry Harry.

"Oh yes, Harry." he said with a sad smile. "And anyway, these are not your concerns." He looked up into Harry's eyes before he spoke again. "Ever since I met you that night your parents were killed, I knew you would never be given the chance lead a peaceful life. It is unfortunate that this burden that has been placed on you. It is not fair that you should have to be the one to deal with this, but life, it seems, never gives us what is fair. For the moment, however, the Order will take care of destroying the Horcruxes, and you just need to concentrate on being sixteen."

"But sir, I can be of value. I can see what Voldemort is planning, before he does it. Last night, on the Astronomy Tower, if I hadn't have had that vision, you would be dead right now", Harry protested, his frustration rising again.

"Harry, look at me right now." Harry's eyes snapped to meet Dumbledore's. When Dumbledore spoke again, his voice was screaming with caution. "It is very important that you listen to me, and listen to me well. You cannot trust what you see in Tom's mind. If there is only one thing you take from this conversation, it must be that. Tom is, for the moment, unaware of the connection you share but if he learns of it he will use it against you. Make no mistake, this is a very powerful weapon that he will use against you. By keeping that connection open, you are giving him the opportunity to read your thoughts or to plant false visions into your mind. It is, for this reason, imperative that you continue to study Occlumency, even during the summer months."

The thought of spending any extra time with his dreaded Potions professor left a sour taste in his mouth, but he understood Dumbledore's intentions. "Yes sir", he spoke. "I just don't underst …"

"Harry", Dumbledore interrupted. "I do not say these things to belittle you or to diminish the sacrifices you have made for this cause, but you are only sixteen. And for the moment, you just need to worry about being a happy and healthy sixteen year-old. There will come a time when too much will, once again, be asked of you, but this is not that time. And, anyway, I am concerned for you" This time he spoke with hesitation, lowering his eyes to try and meet Harry's. "These visions seem to be taking a toll on you, physically." At this, Harry looked up and saw the worry etched on the headmaster wrinkled face. He had hoped the professor would not bring this topic up.

"What you experienced last night, the dizziness and the nosebleeds, is that typical?" Dumbledore asked. He looked to Harry, who seemed to suddenly be finding the painting on Dumbledore's wall of an oak tree very fascinating. "Harry, do not ignore the question. Above anything, your welfare is my utmost priority." He paused again, waiting for Harry to speak.

"I'm fine, sir. It's nothing, really." Harry looked up to see Dumbledore glaring at him and then averted his eyes. There were a few moments of silence between them. "Fine. It seems to be getting a little bit worse, lately, but it's nothing I can't handle."

"I have no doubt you believe that, Harry. How has it been getting worse?"

"Well, I dunno. Umm …" Harry stammered. The new direction this conversation was taking was clearly very uncomfortable for him. He was not accustomed to someone taking such an active interest in his well-being, and he was starting to think he really didn't like the attention. "I guess the headaches have gotten a bit worse. They used to come and go with the visions, but now they are a constant presence. But that's nothing some of Madame Pompfrey's pain potions can't fix. The dizziness and nosebleeds are new, but I really haven't been getting much sleep lately - studying for exams and all – so I'm sure those will go away soon, too. Really, sir. I'll be fine …" Harry spoke, hoping this conversation would end very soon.

Dumbledore stared back at Harry, concern still etched all over the headmaster's features. "If you say so, my boy." Dumbeldore responded. He was not quite sure he believed the boy but did not want to push the issue further at the moment. "It sounds like you could use some good rest this summer."

"Fat chance of that," Harry mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" Dumbledore asked, perplexed.

"Nothing, sir. Just that summertime isn't the most relaxing time of the year."

"And why is that?" the headmaster inquired.

"Well, unless the Dursley's won the lottery and decided to hire a personal chef, live-in maid, and full-time gardener, I pretty much have my work cut out for me this summer," Harry replied sullenly. He thought of the long list of chores the Dursley's probably already had written up, in anticipation of his arrival. It's not that the Dursley's were ever outright mean or abusive toward Harry, but neglectful was definitely an appropriate description of their treatment. There was no home for Harry at Number 4 Privet Drive, merely a place to occupy space during the summer months.

"Ahhh, yes. I never did approve of the Dursley's as your guardians. There never has been much love shared within that family. Unfortunately, it was necessary for you to live there, of course, given the additional protection of the blood ward your mother created for you the night she died." Harry never liked the living situation but over time he had grown to accept it. The Dursley's were no one's idea of parents, but at least they kept him fed and clothed. "However," Dumbledore continued, "given the severity of the current situations, I think even the wards may not be enough to keep Voldemort and his Death Eaters from gaining access to you."

"Sir?" Harry spoke hesitantly.

"Yes, given the circumstances, I have proposed for a new living situation be arranged. While I disapprove of your actions last night, there was some good that did come of it. It appears Peter Pettigrew was killed atop the Astronomy Tower and his body has been recovered to prove that fact. I have been able to pull some string with the Ministry and, given the overwhelming evidence against his conviction, Sirius Black has been exonerated from his crimes." Hearing this, Harry mouth hung open in shock. "As of this afternoon, Sirius Black will officially be named your guardian." As Harry's brain attempted to process this information, all function to the rest of body ceased. He sat frozen in his seat.

"Does that mean …" he spoke slowly, unable to complete the sentence.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he finished Harry's thoughts for him. "Yes, it does. The Dursley's will be relieved as your official guardians and you will no longer share a home with them. You will be going home tonight to live with your godfather."

There were no words to describe the joy Harry felt in that moment. Not caring whether it was appropriate or not, Harry leapt from the sofa and wrapped his arms around the headmaster. Dumbledore let out a laugh and briefly reciprocated the hug. Harry, suddenly feeling embarrassed, bent his head down and whispered softly, "Sorry, sir".

"Not at all, my boy. Not at all!" Dumbledore took Harry's chin in his hand, raised his head up, and smiled back at him. "I am excited for you to have this opportunity to get to know better the man your parents regarded as a dear friend. I have no doubt it will be a great time for both of you."

"Thank you, sir. I really can't tell you how much this means to me."

"No need to thank me, Harry. Remember that in everything, I only want the best for you. Which is why you must promise me that you will tell someone if these visions of yours get any worse. Okay?" Dumbledore removed his hand from Harry's chin, and rubbed the side Harry's head. Harry understood the seriousness in his voice.

Reluctantly he answered, "Okay."

"Alright, well I'm sure you have many things to do in preparation for your departure tonight. Remember to work on closing your mind to Voldemort and I will do my best to make sure that you are kept apprised of the work the Order is doing to destroy Horcruxes. More than anything, though, remember to have fun this summer! Your school years are meant to be enjoyed and although yours have been anything but conventional, you should still try!" Harry laughed as he rolled his eyes. Sometimes his school years felt the exact opposite of fun. Happy that his questions had been answered, Harry excused himself and walked out of Dumbledore's office. Despite the answers not being quite what he expected, he enjoyed, for the first time in his life, being "in the know".

As Harry closed the door behind him and with a smile on his face he thought, _Things might be looking up for this summer, after all!_

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**That's all for today, folks! Please review on your way out!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN : **Please don't forget to review after you read! It would be super helpful to know what y'all think about how I'm doing as a first-time author!

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**The Long Road Home : Chapter 4**

When Harry arrived back at his room he noticed Dean, Seamus, Neville, and Ron all sitting on the ground next to Dean's bed, deep in conversation. Their things were still strewn about the room and it was obvious to Harry that they had not yet begun packing. Harry made a beeline for his own bed, hoping to avoid additional attention from his roommates. As soon as they recognized Harry's presence, the conversation came to an abrupt halt. The conversation had, no doubt, revolved around the Death Eater attack that occurred while everyone but Harry was locked in the common room, and the events of which Dumbledore relayed to the students that morning at the Leaving Feast.

His roommates, sensing Harry was not in the mood to discuss the events, went back to their areas to begin packing. An uncomfortable silence settled over the room. Harry knew what they wanted to talk about, but he really wasn't ready to broach the topic. There was no way to explain what had happened on the tower without explaining the visions, and that was not the kind of information that needed to be made public. No one, apart from Ron, Hermione, and select members of the Hogwarts staff, was aware of the connection he shared with the Dark Lord and he wanted it to stay that way for now.

A few minutes later a soft knocking sound was made on the doorframe and Hermione poked her head into their room. She learned the hard way, after walking in on a shirtless Neville, to always knock before entering any room in the boy's dormitory.

"I was thinking of taking a walk down to the Black Lake. Anyone want to join me?" she asked. Dean, Seamus, and Neville, understanding this invitation was not actually meant for then, politely declined. Harry was thankful for the interruption Hermione provided and didn't think he could get outside fast enough. Sometimes, even though the castle was large enough to hold rooms he had never seen, he still felt claustrophobic within its walls. He avoided the curious stares of his classmates as he, Ron, and Hermione made their way across the common room, through the portrait of the Fat Lady, and out into the fresh air of the beautiful day.

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As the trio walked to their favorite sitting spot on the pier jutting out into the lake, Harry recounted his conversation with Dumbledore. Harry soft-peddled the part about hunting down Horcruxes and the conditions surrounding his final showdown with Voldemort, but he could still see the concern on the faces of his two best friends. As the Gryffindors dangled their feet into the water, Harry expressed his excitement about getting to live with Sirius and his frustration with Dumbledore at the old man's reluctance to include him in the business of the Order.

"Dumbledore's just trying to protect you, Harry. And besides, you could use the down-time," Hermione said. She picked up his hand and began to rub small circles into his palm. "You haven't been feeling well lately". Harry spun his head around and brought his eyes up to meet hers, but she cut him off before he could speak. "I know, Harry. I can see it in your face. You're tired and these headaches have been bothering you more than you're letting on." He couldn't argue with her. The headaches had, over the past few weeks, been making it difficult for him to get a full night's rest. He would never admit it, though. If there was one thing that truly made him uncomfortable, it was confessing weakness.

"It's true, mate. We're your best friends. You can't hide anything from us", Ron pipped in. This elicited a small smile from Harry. It was never easy for him to be to him to be open with others about his problems, and he found it comforting that his friends could know exactly how he was feeling without him having to speak a word.

"Don't worry guys. A few nights of good, un-interrupted sleep and I'll be as good as new", he spoke and then flashed them an unconvincing smile. If he was being honest, he too was worried. When he added up all the symptoms, things just didn't seem right, but he wanted to push this all to the side right now. He was finally getting the chance to live with Sirius and that was all he wanted to focus on. Besides, the pain in his head had subsided, - he would have forgotten it was even there had Hermione not just brought it up - and he was desperate to change the subject.

"So," Harry interrupted the silence, "who wants to go for a swim?" His two best friends looked at him as if he were crazy.

"Are you kidding me? This water is freezing cold!" Ron exclaimed. He pulled his toes out of the water to show Harry how red they had become.

"Yea", Harry acknowledged, "but it feels like it's about 100 degrees out here and the cold water feels so nice!" Teasingly, Harry swept his arm into the lake and splashed water onto the pier, soaking Ron and Hermione. The two sat frozen in shock and Harry couldn't keep himself from laughing. They looked like two cats that had just fallen into a bathtub, wet and with a sour look on their faces.

"Harry! James! Potter! How darrrrrre you!" Hermione shrieked. A slow smile crept onto her face, betraying the anger she was trying to fake. Never one to back down, a thought quickly came to her. "You know, Mr. Weasley", she pondered aloud. "Harry over here just looks too dry for his own good." Ron, understanding immediately where she was going with this, stood up and grabbed his best friend under the arms. Before Harry had a chance to take off his shoes, he was hurtled through the air and into the water, face first. When he came up for a breath, he saw his two friends laughing at him from the pier. Their revenge was sweet.

"Not so funny is it now, Mr. Potter?" Hermione quipped, fully enjoying that Harry was now as miserably cold as they were.

"I dunno", Harry spoke, "That was pretty funny." Harry could see Ron approaching Hermione from behind, but she clearly did not see him coming. "Almost as funny as this …"

Hermione started to say "As what?" but as soon as the words left her mouth she felt herself being thrust into the air, and the next thing she knew she too had a mouthful of water. Not at all pleased that Ron was currently the driest member of their group, Harry and Hermione joined forces, and pretty soon all three of them were enjoying a nice dip in the lake, with all of their clothes on. They splashed around in the water, and when they could no longer stand the cold, hoisted themselves back onto the pier.

As they lay on the pier, basking in the warmth of the sun, Harry tilted his head and looked at his two best friends. Growing up on Privet Drive, Harry never imagined he would meet people in his life that would care so deeply for him, and he for them. They had all been through so much together in their six years at Hogwarts and it was a true testament to their friendship that they had come this far unscathed. Well, almost unscathed. Up to this point there hadn't been anything the trio couldn't accomplish when they put their minds together and despite that deep inside he knew the worst was yet to come, for right now he was content to sit here, in the warmth of a beautiful day, with his two best friends.

As the sun began to set over the hills they reluctantly retreated to their rooms to finish packing before the Hogwarts Express arrived later that night.

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When Harry returned to his room, there was another letter from Dumbledore asking Harry to meet him in his office at precisely 9 o'clock that evening. Assuming this would be his alternate departure, he quickly finished up the last of his packing and then wished his friends goodbye. Hermione and Ron promised to write to him this summer, and they all planned to ask their respective parents and guardians to spend the last few weeks of the summer together at the Burrow. Harry knew that now that he was living with Sirius he would be seeing much more of Ron this summer, as meetings for the Order were traditionally held at Grimmauld Place. Hermione, seemingly hesitant to see Harry leave, made him promise that he would take care of himself this summer, and Harry bashfully obliged. Not wanting to be late for his meeting with Dumbledore, he hugged them both, gathered up his belongings, and started for the headmaster's office.

When he arrived at the door, he could hear the soft whispers of several voices coming from the other side. He considered putting his ear to the door and eavesdropping into their private conversation for a few moments, but thought better of this when he assumed they had probably already detected his presence.

He pushed the heavy door open and was immediately pulled into a hug. From the shoulder length black hair and subtle smell of dog treats, Harry knew he was being embraced by his godfather. They stayed this way for a moment, enjoying the long awaited reunion. "Harry!"-"Sirius!" they both said simultaneously, and Sirius pulled back to take a look at Harry. Sirius, whose hand was now resting on the back of Harry's neck, noted the not-inconsiderable amount of weight his godson had lost since Christmastime, as well as the dark circles that had formed under his eyes. Harry, feeling uncomfortable at the inspection, pulled away from his godfather entirely and moved toward the center of the room, where various members of the Order were, no doubt, waiting to escort the pair home.

"Kingsley, Moody, how are you?" Harry asked politely, and they each replied in turn. Dumbledore, who up until this point had been sitting behind his desk, came to the center of the room to greet Harry.

"Harry, my boy, thank you for arriving on time. I have opened up the Floo connection between this office and Grimmauld place for only a short period so we must stay on schedule. Kingsley, Moody, I want you to go first and make sure we do not have any unexpected visitors on the other side," Dumbledore commanded. "We have always gone to great lengths to the keep the location of Grimmauld place a secret but in this circumstance we don't want to take any unnecessary risks." At this, the two aurors left their places on the couch and disappeared into the fireplace.

They returned a few minutes later and gave their assurances that residence was nearly empty. The only living thing in the house was the elf, Kreacher. No one was particularly fond of Kreacher, he had a penchant for lying and stealing, but he kept the rooms clean and the portraits quiet and that was about all anyone could ask of him.

Once they were confident no Death Eaters would be waiting for them, Harry and Sirius grabbed a handful of floo powder and faded into the ash. When Harry first stepped out of the fireplace, he took a moment to look around. Despite its somewhat decrepit state, this was the closest thing, outside of Hogwarts, he'd had to a home. While it did not hold the same warmth and charm as the Burrow it was infinitely better than anything he had experienced at Privet Drive. That, however, wasn't saying much. Moments later the headmaster and the two aurors followed behind them carrying Harry's things.

"Just put those in the guest bedroom for now", Sirius directed. "Well be moving things around a bit later."

After one final inspection of the place, the two aurors deemed the home safe and returned to the headmaster's office. Dumbledore lingered behind. He approached Harry in the living room and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders.

"Harry," he spoke. "Remember what we talked about this morning. There is much still to be done but your responsibility at the moment is to yourself. I will let you know when the time comes for you to rejoin the fight, but in the interim, enjoy getting to know your godfather better. He has been most excited about your arrival. And please look after yourself." He said this last bit with a hint of sadness in his eye. "You are too important to all of us." With that, Dumbledore turned away from Harry and returned to Hogwarts.

Sirius, not having been present for the private conversation between his godson and the headmaster, carried a puzzled expression on his face, and Harry, not wanting to rehash what had been said, made his way to the guest bedroom where his things had been placed. Harry couldn't help the small feeling of bitterness that rose up in him. In the excitement of the afternoon, Harry had temporarily forgotten some of the harsher points of their earlier conversation. While he understood, in some small way, Dumbledore's perspective, he couldn't help but feel like a pawn in this whole game. Along with these unpleasant thoughts came the ache, which had been lying repressed in the back of his head for the latter part of the day. _Those relatively pain-free hours were bliss, _Harry thought, as he approached the door.

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When Harry opened the door to his room he was a little bit disappointed to see the room looked exactly the way it always had. Secretly, he hoped Sirius might have chosen to personalize the room for Harry. He loosened up his tie, placed his cardigan over the armchair, and sat on the bed to pull of shoes. As he sat down, he looked around the room and wondered who it had belonged to when Sirius was a child. The walls were painted a pale pink and the window across from the bed was charmed to look out on a beautiful garden of daisies but there were no pictures in frames on the dresser or posters of favorite quidditch teams littering the walls. _I guess its possible_, Harry thought, _that no one had lived here at all_.

"This room belonged to my little sister, Evieana," a voice from behind him spoke, and Harry whipped his head around to see his godfather leaning against the doorframe. In his reverie, he hadn't noticed he was no longer alone. Like Dumbledore, Sirius had the uncanny ability to sense what Harry was thinking. "I called her Evy," Sirius continued. "She was the youngest of all of us, and my absolute favorite." He spoke with a smile.

"Evieana?" Harry asked, and he thought back to when Sirius had shown him the Black family tree two Christmases ago. "I don't remember seeing an 'Evieana' on the tapestries."

"No, you wouldn't," Sirius spoke sadly. "She was always very sick, even from birth. A bad heart, the doctors said. Mother viewed sickness as a sign of weakness and Evy was cast out from the family at a very early age. When she was six, she contracted an illness and her body, already weak with the effort of trying to compensate for her failing heart, just couldn't take it anymore." There was silence in the room while Harry gave his Sirius a quiet moment of reflection. He could see the pain etched on his godfather's face.

"What type of illness?" Harry inquired.

Sirius, who was now staring out the window, shook himself out of his thought. "I never knew," he spoke honestly. "Once mother realized the presence of a sickly child would leave a black spot on our 'perfect' family, she was sequestered in this room until the day she died. I was the only person who would come near her. When I came home from school for the summer and we had the most wonderful time together. We would play for hours on end and when she got tired I would make up stories for her about pirates on far away seas and princesses who slayed dragons, until she fell asleep in my arms," he paused for a moment. "One day, towards the end of her illness, when she was too sick to get out of bed, I charmed this window for her. Daises were her favorite flower - Gerber Daises to be specific - and she would sit in her bed and stare out that window for hours. She was seven when her illness stole her from us. I was in my fifth year at Hogwarts and it was your father who gave me the news. I think she was all alone when she died." When Sirius spoke he had a far-away look in his eyes and it was clear to Harry that he was reliving painful memories that were buried deep in his past.

"I'm so sorry", Harry said softly, not wanting to disturb Sirius' thoughts.

Sirius was, once more, shaken from his thoughts. "Yes, well these are the sad realities of life, I suppose. I never forgave my mother for neglecting Evy on her deathbed and I think that was what drove the final spike between us. We never spoke again after that. After she died I made sure this room was always kept clean and left exactly the way it was when Evy was a little girl. It's my favorite room in this god-forsaken house," he said with a bitter laugh, and now the room selection made a little more sense to Harry. He felt guilty for the selfishness he had shown when he first entered the room.

"Anyway, enough of that." Sirius perked up. "I came in to see what you'd like for dinner! There isn't much in the cupboard, I'll have to go to the store in the morning, but I seem to have a plethora of breakfast foods. I can make you some pancakes, or waffles, or French toast, or … let me think, …" In his head Sirius tried to make a list of everything had seen in the pantry. "Let's see we've got flour, sugar, eggs, syrup…"

"I'm actually not hungry," Harry confessed. His headache had returned with full force and the thought of eating food right now made his stomach queasy. At the moment, all he craved were his pajamas and the taste of a strong pain potion. "I actually think I might go to bed, if that's alright with you."

"Of course," Sirius exclaimed, "but you're sure you don't want any supper first?" He eyed Harry worryingly.

"No, no thank you. I'm still full from the Leaving Feast, actually." This was a lie. Harry hadn't actually attended the Leaving Feast but he did not want to give Sirius any more cause for concern.

"Yes, I do seem to remember that the kitchen elves always liked to go a bit overboard on the last day of school," Sirius said with a laugh. "But are you sure? You are awfully thin, Harry." At this, Harry rolled his eyes. Sirius was starting to remind him more and more of Mrs. Weasley every passing minute.

"I promise I'm fine," Harry assured his godfather. "It's been a really long day, and I'm just tired."

"If you say so, pup," Sirius said, and Harry cringed at the nickname. As endearing as it was, it made Harry feel like a five year old and he hated being treated like a child. But he would never complain. Sirius was one of the few people Harry would accept attention from and the nickname brought him a certain amount of comfort. He liked that he had someone looking after him.

"Get some sleep and I'll have breakfast ready for you when you wake up." Harry flashed him a small smile and Sirius reached down to ruffle the thick mob of black hair on Harry's head before left the room.

Once Harry was alone again, he changed out of his school uniform and into his favorite pair of pajamas. He folded his clothes and put them back in the trunk, then searched around for the bottles of pain potion he swiped from Madame Pompfrey's storeroom before he left. He was only able to grab four vials at the time, and he hoped that would last him long enough to make a trip over to Diagon Alley for more. He drank one vial, then stashed the empty bottle deep in his trunk. Already feeling the soothing effects of the elixir, he crawled into bed, placed his glasses on the table beside him, extinguished the flame from the lamp on the dresser, and fell fast asleep.

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Later that night, a few hours after Harry had fallen asleep, Sirius snuck into his late sister's room to catch another peek at the sleeping boy. Sirius laughed when saw him. Harry slept just like his father. He was curled up on his side in a tight ball, facing away from the door, and lightly snoring. The covers were thrown completely off the bed, and his head was only half on the pillow, forcing his neck into a very uncomfortable looking bend. Sirius reached down and gently lifted Harry's head so he could move the pillow farther down and hopefully spare the boy a stiff neck when he woke up. It was moments like these when Sirius could easily confuse Harry for James. They were really more alike than Harry knew. Although, Sirius expected no one ever told Harry much about his father. That was something Sirius was looking forward to remedying this summer. He was looking forward to a lot of things this summer.

Ever since Evy, Sirius had wanted to be a father, but the first war with Voldemort changed all of that when he found himself spending ten years in prison for a crime he didn't commit. His desire for a child had always been a pipe dream, but now Harry changed all of that. True, he wasn't the boy's father, but he was all Harry had and Harry was all he had. Together they were a family, and Sirius loved Harry like he would have loved his own son. Growing up, Harry had never known love and there was a deep hole in him forged by pain and neglect that Sirius longed to fill.

"James," Sirius spoke softly to the boy's long dead father, "I wish you could see him now. You'd be so proud." As he whispered this, small tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. He quickly swiped them away before they had the chance to fall.

Sixteen years ago Sirius made a promise to Harry's parents, that he would watch over the boy should anything ever happen to them. Now that James and Lily were gone, he intended to keep that promise.

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**That's all for today, folks! Don't forget to let me know what y'all think. This story probably seems like it's moving a little bit too slowly, but I'm having fun writing all of the little moments in between the big moments. I promise I'll try to get to some of the meatier parts soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: **Sorry this one is coming a bit later than usual, but I've been on vacation in Alaska for the past few weeks with no internet connection. Not that, hiking through the rainforest, I really cared about the internet but it's nice to be back!

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**The Long Road Home : Chapter 5**

The next morning, Harry awoke feeling just as terribly as when he had fallen asleep the previous night. The pain had spread from the base of his skull to directly behind his eyes, and both areas were throbbing with intensity on par with some of the worst he had experienced up to this point. Harry thought that the potion he swiped from Madame Pompfrey's storeroom must have worn off some time in the middle of the night, because he distinctly remembered searching blindly in the dark for another. That would also explain why he had woken up on the opposite side of the bed from where he fell asleep. It was evidently not a restful sleep and he found himself more tired now then when he had laid down several hours before. _This is not a good start to my day_, Harry thought.

The kitchen was only a few feet away from his bedroom door, and Harry could hear banging sounds as the cabinets were being opened and closed. He assumed this was Sirius trying to concoct some meal for them out of the remaining food in the pantry, and as grateful as Harry was, the noises were only adding to his already head-splitting ache. He threw a pillow over his face to help drown out the sound.

As the intensity of the pain in his head grew, he forced himself to close his eyes and take deep, calming breaths. In the past, this was usually the best remedy. He thought he might be about to receive another vision from Voldemort, but after minutes of waiting, no vision came. Unable to bear the pain any longer, he decided that his next best solution was to search out another potion from his trunk and hope that would dull the headache enough for him to ride out this latest wave of pain. True, this would only leave him with one more vial should anything else happen, but now was not the time for being conservative.

Remembering that his glasses were on the bedside table opposite from where he had woken up, he shakily pushed himself to a sitting position. Cursing that he was unable to see even two feet in front of him, he crawled across the bed, tracing the edge of bed frame with his hand until it landed upon the large wooden table. He could make out a few shapes on the table and reached his hand out to grab what he assumed were his glasses. As he swiped his hand across the table he accidentally knocked over a small reading lamp, sending it shattering to the floor. Harry winced at the sound of the glass lamp meeting the tile floor, and knew it would not go unnoticed by his godfather.

"Harry", he heard Sirius' voice calling him from the kitchen, as the noise of food being prepared suddenly stopped. "Are you alright in there?"

_Right on cue_, Harry thought. Not wanting to reveal his current condition to his godfather, he mustered up all the strength he could manage and called back. "Just fine, sorry! I tripped and knocked over the lamp, but I'm alright."

"It's only your first day here, Harry," Sirius said with a laugh. "Try not to break all of the furniture before the summer's over."

"Also," Sirius spoke again. "I'm making some breakfast for us right now, so meet me in the kitchen whenever you're ready."

Harry's stomach felt sick at the thought of food, but luckily for him, there wasn't anything in his stomach to throw up. It had almost been a full day since he'd had anything to eat. After a few more tries, he finally found his glasses and secured them on his nose. Wishing now that he had carried his trunk closer to the bed, Harry stood up on his wobbly legs to begin the long journey to the other side of the room. As soon as he took his first step a familiar wave of dizziness swept over him and his knees buckled. Luckily, the bed was there to catch him and he sat on the edge, with his head clutched in his hands, until the dizziness passed. Determined to try again, Harry pushed himself off from the bed and began his walk, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other and leaning against the wall for support. After what felt like an eternity, Harry finally reached the trunk. He sat down in front of it, lifted the lid, and searched desperately for the opaque liquid that would ease his pain. Finding what he was searching for, he pulled the cork from the vial and leaned his back against the trunk as he greedily drank down every last drop of the elixir.

Satisfied that he had done all he could to manage the pain, he dropped the vial back into his trunk and prepared himself for the walk back to his bed. The potion had not yet taken effect, but he hoped that it, in combination with a little more rest, might be enough to make him feel better. As he approached the bed, he could feel the exhaustion taking over and his legs began to tremble more violently. He put an arm onto the bed to steady himself but it was not enough. As his legs gave out beneath him, he saw the ground quickly approaching and felt the crack of his head hitting the bedside table, before he slid into unconsciousness.

Sirius had been whipping up the last batch of pancakes when he heard another crash come from the boy's bedroom. _What did he break this time? _Sirius thought to himself amusingly.

"Harry?" he called, but this time there was no answer. "Harry?" he yelled, this time much louder than before, but still there was no response from the boy.

In a panic, he dropped the bowl of batter he had been mixing and raced into the bedroom, but could not immediately see his godson. As he circled around to the other side of the bed, fear gripped his heart. There was his cub, the only family he had left in this world, lying unconscious in a pile of glass, with a large cut bleeding furiously down the side of his head. Sirius stood at the edge of the bed, momentarily frozen with shock at the site before him. As he knelt down beside Harry, he timidly reached two fingers out to the boy's throat, praying beyond all belief that he would detect the rhythmic beating of a heart. It was there. Not as strong as Sirius would have liked, but it was there. He almost cried with relief. Noting that Harry still hadn't woken up, however, Sirius pulled the boy's head into his lap and softly began calling his name, not caring that the blood from the cut on Harry's head was now soaking his shirt.

As he enjoyed the peace of his unconsciousness, Harry could hear a voice approaching from the distance. Words that were before inaudible, Harry could now make out as the sound of his name being repeated, over and over again, in a soothing but panicked voice. The voice, he recognized, was none other than that of his godfather. As he slowly drifted back towards consciousness, he became more and more aware of his surroundings. He was laying on his back on the cold floor, the sharp edges of glass digging into his skin, and his head was being cradled in what he assumed was the warm lap of his godfather. Harry made a quick assessment of his body and noticed that the sharp pains in his head were now replaced by a throbbing ache on his forehead, from its unfortunate encounter with the edge of a table, and the dizziness that once plagued him had now passed. It was obvious the potion had its desired effect, and he was feeling infinitely better than he had only minutes ago.

No longer able to ignore the calls of his name, Harry slowly fluttered his eyes open, giving them a chance to adjust to the light. Staring straight down at him was the face of his terrified godfather.

"Harry, oh Harry, are you alright?" Sirius asked, a tone of desperation present within his voice. Unsure of how to answer that question, Harry tried to move himself into a sitting position but was restrained by a stronger pair of arms. Feeling much stronger himself, Harry attempted to push the arms away and climb up onto the bed, but was unsuccessful.

"I'm fine, Sirius, I just fainted. It's no big deal." Harry replied nonchalantly, his head still fuzzy from just having woken up. Harry knew it wasn't "no big deal" but he wasn't about to admit that. He was lucky enough that Sirius had opened his home to him for the summer, and he didn't want to jeopardize that by being any more of a burden than he already was.

"Just fainted?" Sirius spoke incredulously. "Harry, there is no such thing as 'just fainting'." Ignoring his godfather, Harry struggled to lift himself up, but was again restrained by a stronger pair of arms. "Harry lie still for me, please. You are bleeding everywhere."

Harry looked down at his arms and noticed small pools of blood forming around the shards of glass that had embedded themselves into Harry's flesh. The cuts themselves didn't hurt much at all, but it was a little disconcerting to witness, and although he couldn't see them, he noticed the same pinprick feelings running down his neck and back. "Accio glass", Sirius whispered, and before Harry even realized that Sirius had drawn his wand, the small pieces of glass flew from Harry's body and into a pile next to Sirius' feet.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled softly, "and sorry again about the lamp."

"Nonsense," Sirius replied, and smiled a little at the unnecessary courtesy Harry was showing. "You are worth a million lamps to me, and I need to know how you are feeling. Do you hurt anywhere?"

Harry thought back to the initial assessment he had made, then answered, "No, not really. My forehead a little bit, but I'm really just tired." He started to close his eyes again, but Sirius shook him back awake.

"Harry, I need you to stay awake, alright? You may have had a concussion and I need to have someone come check you over before you can go to sleep."

"Noooo," Harry whined. "Sirius I'm fine, I promise. Please just let me get back in bed so I can take a nap."

"I'm sorry, Harry, but no," Sirius stated firmly, evoking the fatherly instinct within himself. "Head injuries can be serious, and I'm not taking any chances with you." Harry, knowing his godfather would not give up the issue, sighed in resignation.

Sirius scooted his body out from underneath Harry's head, put arm around Harry's shoulders and another beneath his legs, and lifted him up onto the bed. Sirius gathered several pillows behind Harry's back, and then gently pushed him down so that he was resting against them. Harry squirmed uncomfortably beneath the sheets. "I'm not an invalid, you know," Harry protested. He was unaccustomed to such a display of care and it made him slightly uneasy.

"I know," Sirius said, "but I'm your godfather and it's my responsibility to take care of you. And I enjoy that responsibility." Sirius paused, as he brushed the hair off of Harry's forehead. The wound on his forehead had stopped bleeding, but it left a nasty trail of dried blood down the side of his face. Harry's eyes started to drift close again, so Sirius spoke up loudly, "Now, I'm going into the living room to floo Madame Pompfrey. While I'm away I want you to count aloud so that I know you haven't fallen asleep on me. Okay?" Harry nodded his head in agreement. "Alright, you may begin."

"One … Two … Three …" Harry began, feeling slightly foolish. With that, Sirius walked out of the room, leaving the door open so head could hear the boy's voice, and placed a firecall to Madame Pompfrey to come as soon as she was available.

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Half an hour later, Madame Pompfrey came rushing through the fireplace, clutching her medical bag and calling out for Sirius. "In here," Sirius responded and Pompfrey followed the voice to a bedroom down the hall.

She walked in to find Sirius sitting in a chair beside Harry and reading a book aloud, while Harry stared out the window sleepily. "Poppy, I'm so glad you're here." Sirius seemed more than relieved to see the face of the mediwitch. "I've been trying to keep Harry awake, but I'm not sure _Moby Dick_ is doing the job too well."

"I'm sorry it took me so long to get here, Sirius, but there was an accident among a few of the players at the Puddlemere United game, and I was called in to tend to some of the more minor wounds." Harry's head perked up at the mention of quidditch.

"Really?" Sirius spoke. "I hope everyone's alright."

"Ahh, yes," Pompfrey replied. "A few nights in St. Mungo's for the worst of them, but they'll be back up on their brooms in no time." Pompfrey paused and took a good look at her patient before she spoke again. "But I didn't come to talk about quidditch, did I? Mister Potter, school hasn't even been out for a day. What on Earth happened to you?" Harry looked up at her guiltily.

"Well," Sirius spoke up, not trusting Harry to tell the truth, "Harry passed out and nicked his head on the edge of the bedside table. I've spent the past half hour trying to convince him that normal, healthy people don't pass out for no reason."

"I'm glad you called for me, Sirius. Your godfather is correct, Harry, and you should never take a head wound lightly," she spoke and Sirius gave an "I told you so" glance to his godson.

"Well," Pompfrey continued, "Harry, can you tell me about what happened right before you passed out?"

Harry toyed with the idea of telling Madame Pompfrey the whole truth about how he had been feeling recently, if what she had said about the seriousness of these issues was true then maybe this wasn't a secret worth holding on to, but then he looked up again at the worried faces of the nurse and his godfather, he thought better of it. He silently promised to tell them if things got worse.

"Ummmm," he started, "It's all a bit fuzzy, but I remember feeling a little bit shaky, then all of the sudden I got really dizzy, then the next the I knew I was awake on Sirius' lap. That's really all I remember." Harry was starting to feel very self-conscious at all the attention he was receiving and pulled the sheets of his bed up further around his waist, in a weak attempt to hide.

"Well, dear, we'll get you sorted out in no time," and with that Madame Pompfrey began digging through her bag for supplies. "First things first, I'm going to give you three words and I want you to remember them, okay?" Harry nodded in reply. "Your three words are quaffle, mockingbird, and helicopter."

"Quaffle, mockingbird, and helicopter?" Harry repeated back to her, not at all understanding the point of this exercise.

"Yes," she answered casually. "Alright, let's begin, shall we?" she asked rhetorically and Sirius conceded the chair next to the bed to her, while he moved to a bench built into the windowsill. Harry assumed that was a place Sirius probably spent a great deal of time with his sister.

She began by casting a clotting charm over Harry's body to close the small wounds from the shattered glass and a scourgify charm to clean the dried blood. She pulled a tub of cream from her bag and applied it generously over the large cut on Harry's forehead. "This will help close up the wound and keep it from bleeding again", she commented and then taped a large bandage over the wound to keep it from becoming infected. "These smaller cuts should heal just fine on their own, but I'll leave a small jar of this cream with you just in case they decide to open up." She pulled a jar from her bag and placed it on the bedside table next to Harry. Once he was all cleaned up she gently pressed a finger to his wrist and began comparing the number of heartbeats to the time on her watch. When the minute was over she looked to Sirius with a slight frown on her face. "Hmmm, that's a bit too slow," she mumbled to herself.

Harry was staring out the window at this point, but let out a small cry, more out of surprise than pain, when she pricked his right pointer finger with a needle. "What was that for?" he asked as the witch placed a small tissue over the prick to stem the bleeding.

"Just checking your blood sugar," she answered, as she held her wand up to the end of the needle and began whispering incantations. While she waited for the spells to finish their work, she looked over at her young patient and decided this was the time to get a few more answers out of him.

"Mister Potter these symptoms, the shaking and the dizziness, are they new?" she asked.

"Uhhh, yea," he lied guiltily, but reminded himself of his promise to tell them the truth if things got worse.

"And when was the last time you ate?"

Harry remembered lying to Sirius about attending the Leaving Feast, so he answered, "Yesterday afternoon, at the Leaving Feast. I was too tired last night to eat dinner, so I skipped."

"Hmmm …" she answered but before she could reply the chime of a bell alerted her that the spells had finished analyzing the blood sample. "Once again," she explained, "not as good as I would like, but not dangerously low. The average blood sugar level for someone your age is around 70 mg/dL, and yours is 62 mg/dL. It's probably from missing dinner last night and should be fairly easy to bring back up. Low blood sugar would also explain the shakiness and dizziness, and the low pulse rate is probably an indication of electrolyte imbalance which is not uncommon in people who aren't eating enough," she spoke, giving an accusatory glare to her young patient. "Mister Potter, I can't tell you how important it is that you eat, even when you don't feel hungry. You are borderline underweight for your age and height, and it's just not healthy." Harry tried to protest but she interrupted him. "Here," she said as she reached into her bag and pulled out three small tablets. "I always keep these in here for my diabetic patients. They are glucose tablets, pretty much pure sugar, and should help bring those numbers right up, so enjoy!" Harry swallowed them without chewing and made a nasty face at the sickeningly sweet taste as they went down.

"Good," Madame Pompfrey nodded approvingly. "Alright, we'll check that again in a few minutes to make sure it did the trick."

"Now," she continued, "Let's check your head." She reached into her bag and pulled out a penlight. "Mister Potter, I'm going to shine this light," she explained, "and I want you to follow it with your eyes." She pointed the light at his forehead, then moved the beam up and down and to the left and right. Harry had no difficulty following its motion. She turned the light off and on, and noted that his pupils adjusted normally to the varying intensities of light. "Very good, very good, your pupils are reacting perfectly. Just one more thing," and Harry glanced up at her. "What were the three items I asked you to remember earlier?"

Harry had almost forgotten about that part of their conversation, but had no difficulty recalling the items. "Quaffle, mockingbird, helicopter," he recited with a little bit of pride.

"Excellent," Pompfrey exclaimed. "No issues with short term memory either," she stated with satisfaction. "You definitely don't have a concussion, but your head might be sore few a few day from the impact. I'll leave a few vials of pain potion in case you start to feel any pain." Harry silently thanked her, as he was sure he would be needing those once his usual headaches returned to full force.

She took out another fresh needle from her bag and pricked the index finger of Harry's left hand, this time, and muttered the same incantations. The few moments they sat in silence waiting for the results were growing awkward for Harry, he was looking forward to being finished with this little ordeal. As soon as the bell chimed again Madame Pompfrey read off the results.

"Perfect," she stated. "Your blood sugar levels are headed back up to the normal range again, so the glucose tables seem to be doing their job. I think this was all just an unfortunate side effect of not having enough food in you!"

Harry gave her his best convincing smile, and noticed Sirius breath a sigh of relief. "So he's alright?" Sirius asked.

"He will live to see another day, Mr. Black," she replied sarcastically. "He may be a little shaky for a few hours, it always takes the body a little time to adjust to the increase in blood sugar, but he should be back to his old self in no time. I would recommend lots of good rest today, and tomorrow he should be right as rain," she finished, then busied herself with putting away supplies and pulling out the pain potions and setting them next to the bed like she had promised. When she was all packed, she looped the medicine bag around her arm then made her way over to the bedroom door. She turned around to face her young patient before she left and said, "Take care of yourself, Harry." Then she looked up at Sirius and asked, "Can I trust you to make sure he eats every meal and doesn't skip a single one?"

"Yes, ma'am" Sirius replied in all seriousness. Harry let out an audible sigh. Sirius and Mrs. Weasley were enough mother hens for Harry without throwing Madame Pompfrey into the mix.

"Alright, goodbye you two. And please try to stay out of trouble, I'd like to enjoy a peaceful summer for once," she spoke with a smile.

"Goodbye," Sirius and Harry said in unison, and they heard the whooshing sound of fire as Madame Pompfrey returned to Hogwarts.

Harry, relieved that she was finally gone, threw the remaining covers off of his bed and started to make his way to the door. Sirius looked at him from his place on the windowsill and asked, "Just what do you think you are doing?"

"Well," Harry replied, trying to brush off the events of the past few hours, "I thought I'd finally go out to the kitchen so we can enjoy that breakfast you made."

"Not so fast," Sirius spoke authoritatively. "Get back in bed this instant."

"But Sirius, please! Madame Pompfrey said I'm perfectly healthy so there's no reas …", Harry retorted but was promptly cut off.

"There's no reason for you to be getting out of bed so soon. Pompfrey said you'll still be weak for a while longer and in case you've forgotten it's my responsibility to take care of you." Sirius paused for effect. "Now, get yourself in that bed and I'll be back in a few minutes with your breakfast."

Harry felt badly for interrupting whatever plans Sirius might have had for the day, but truthfully, he was still tired and could use the extra hours of rest. The ache in his head had receded over the past hour, but he knew it would come back. It always did.

Sirius returned a few minutes later with two plates full of food and Harry's stomach revolted at the sight. "Sirius, there's no way I can eat all of that and you know it."

"I know," he confessed, "but I wasn't sure what you were in the hungry for, so I brought a little bit of everything." Sirius cleared a off a little spot on the bed and placed the tray full of food next to his godson. "Just eat what you can."

Sirius watched in silence as Harry nibbled at a piece of toast slathered in butter. Today was the first time since Evy that Sirius could recall feeling so much fear and so much love for someone else at the same time. "You know you really had me worried there, kiddo," Sirius spoke after a few minutes. Harry looked up at Sirius from beneath the fringe that had fallen over his forehead. "I know," he replied. "And it was nice to be worried for," he added quietly. Sensing Harry had had enough emotional talk for one day, Sirius picked up his copy of _Moby Dick_ and asked, "Shall we continue?"

Harry smiled up at his godfather and said, "Please do!"

Sirius moved the tray of leftover food off the bed and pulled the covers up over his godson, smiling as Harry rolled his eyes at him, then began to read aloud as he watched Harry's breathing even out and his loll to the side in sleep.

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**Don't forget to review on your way out! I'd appreciate if you'd give me some thoughts on this chapter. I've never written anything like this before and I'm not sure it's coming out too well. If you really, really hate it, I'd like to know, just please be gentle :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: **I have to apologize up-front to everyone who subscribes to alerts for this story. The more I read what I've written, the more I want to change what I've written, so I've loaded updates to chapters 1 through 5. Nothing major, mostly just grammar corrections, but I apologize if this site has sent you hundreds of emails! If you've been following this story, there's no need to go back and re-read the updates. Also, I apologize for the massive delay in posting this chapter. I've been traveling a lot for work, lately, so I haven't had much time to myself!

Another thing, you might have noticed that I changed the tagline for this story. The first one was a little too melodramatic so I'm trying this new one on for size. I'd love any suggestions people might have for a better one!

I'm also curious what y'all think about the pacing of this story. I enjoy writing all the little moments because I know where this is all going, but are y'all finding it boring to read the bits that aren't necessarily progressing the plot?

And one last thing, I have to say a great big thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story and sent me messages! I really appreciate the feedback. I have good plans for these characters in the coming chapters and I'm really loving this process, so I hope y'all keep reading and reviewing!

Without further adieu …

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Harry woke up sometime later to the smell of ginger and molasses wafting in from the kitchen. He rolled over onto his back and stretched his arms out over his head, feeling a satisfying stretch in his stiff muscles. As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes he thought that he couldn't remember the last time he felt this well rested. The curtain over the lone window in his room was drawn closed but he surmised by the activity in the kitchen that it must be some hour of the morning.

He felt around in the dark for his glasses, doing his best to avoid breaking another lamp, then swung his legs over the bed. He carefully pushed himself up and found that, while his legs were still a bit shaky, he was feeling infinitely better than he had the last time he woke up. As he was getting dressed he carefully considered drinking one of the pain potions Madame Pompfrey left for him as a preemptive measure for the full blown headache he was sure to have by the end of the day, but decided against it. His head almost didn't even hurt and he didn't want to jinx his good luck. He noticed that the contents of his trunk were strewn about the room and decided to take a few minutes to tidy up. It wasn't surprising how messy a teenager's room could get in the course of one day, but he didn't want to disrespect Sirius by not keeping the room he had been provided neat and clean. That was one thing the Dursleys had drilled into him since childhood.

When his room was once again presentable, he snuffed out the candles and made his way into the kitchen. Sirius was bent over a cookbook, his back to Harry, wearing thin red reading glasses and a multicolored knit apron to protect his suit from the mayhem of ingredients spilling all over the floor. Harry tried his best to stifle a laugh, but couldn't contain himself. His godfather, usually so prim and proper, looked like a male version of Mrs. Weasley.

"Harry," Sirius exclaimed, as he whirled around to face the teenager, "you're awake!"

"Yea, I am," Harry replied, still trying to hide his smile. "What time is it?"

"It's nearly 9 in the morning. You've been asleep for almost 20 hours. How do you feel?"

"Wow, 20 hours? I feel great, actually. I'm not sure I've ever slept that long before."

"Well, you obviously needed it," Sirius replied, taking a long look at his godson. The extra sleep had definitely done him good. His complexion seemed a little brighter and the dark circles beneath his eyes were starting to fade. But there was still a weariness in his eyes that Sirius didn't think one good night's rest would erase. "Come sit down," Sirius urged as he ushered Harry into one of the chairs beside the long table.

"I'm making some lemon ginger muffins," Sirius explained. "Are you hungry?"

To Harry's surprise, he actually was. "That sounds great," Harry replied, then took another look around the kitchen. The cabinets that had previously contained two or three bowls and a couple of mismatched forks and spoons were now overflowing with brightly colored plates and mugs, and enough silverware to host a dinner party.

"Ahhh, yes," Sirius laughed, noticing Harry's surprise. "When Molly found out you'd be living with me, she gave me enough supplies to open up my own restaurant."

"And that would explain the apron as well?" Harry asked, putting his hand over his mouth to conceal his enormous smile. Harry thought this might be the new image he conjures up in his mind if he ever comes across another boggart.

"I'm afraid so," Sirius smirked, looking down at the smock. "Don't laugh! What it lacks in fashion appeal it more than makes up for in functionality! I bet I don't have even a speck of flour on my jacket when I take this thing off."

"Yes, well you're certainly … colorful" Harry said, searching for the nicest way to describe his godfathers appearance.

Sirius threw his head back and let out a laugh. "Well she gave me a few of these, so why don't you put one on and give me hand over here," he said, as he playfully nudged his godson on the shoulder.

"I'll give you a hand, but I'm most definitely NOT wearing one of those things!"

"Suit yourself! But don't come running to me when your clothes are ruined," Sirius answered teasingly. "There are still a few ingredients to be added in and then these little guys need about 30 minutes to bake. The recipe makes two dozen, but I figure any leftovers we have will get eaten at the Order meeting tonight."

"There's a meeting tonight?" Harry asked, as he got up from his chair and went to meet his godfather in the kitchen. Even though they had all just left Hogwarts, Harry was excited to see Ron and the rest of the Weasley clan that always tagged along.

"Yep, it starts at seven so we have to make sure we're back in time," Sirius responded, as he directed Harry to the measured out ingredients that needed to be mixed in.

"Back from where?" Harry asked, doing his best to concentrate on both the conversation and the recipe. Although he had been forced to prepare meals for the Dursleys over the summer, he didn't consider himself a natural cook.

"That, my boy, is a surprise," Sirius smiled, and began pouring the batter into the muffin pans. "Let's finish up in here so we can eat and get going."

Harry put tray into the oven then retreated into his room to get dressed for the day's adventures.

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After the two finished their breakfast, Sirius walked over to the closet and pulled out a windbreaker. He handed the coat to Harry. "Trust me. Where we're going, you'll thank me for this."

Harry zipped up the jacket over his t-shirt and then followed his godfather into the living room.

"There's no floo connection so I hope you don't mind apparating," Sirius explained, but before Harry could disagree, he felt the familiar tug behind his navel as he was transported from the living room of Grimmauld Place.

The pair landed in the middle of a soggy field, and the wind whipping around made Harry immediately grateful for the jacket. He took a few deep breaths to calm the queasiness that apparating always left in his stomach and then looked around. From where they were standing, he could see hills covered in luscious green grass and hear the faint sound of waves crashing over rocks in the distance. There were wildflowers growing in the fields and a few stray goats grazing the area to the left of them. He didn't know exactly where they were but this was some of the most beautiful countryside he had ever seen.

"Where are we?" Harry asked.

"We're just a few kilometers away from Kinnagoe Bay in Ireland," Sirius replied, then turned and started walking toward a large stone house sitting atop the hill on which they had just landed.

"So," Harry started, doing his best to keep up with Sirius' fast pace. "Do you know the people who live here?"

Sirius turned around and flashed Harry a big smile. "I do actually. I know them very well."

"Who are they?" Harry asked, but Sirius continued walking without responding.

When Sirius reached the top, he titled his head back, took in a deep breath of the fresh air and then sat down in the yard behind the house. Harry, assuming the owners of the house wouldn't mind, took a seat next to his godfather.

"So who owns this place?" Harry asked again.

Sirius reached over and ruffled the back of Harry's hair. "I do," Sirius replied, and took a huge amount of pleasure in seeing the shocked look on Harry's face.

"You what?" Harry could barely contain his astonishment.

"I bought this place," Sirius spoke, as his gestured his hands towards the house and the surrounding land. "It's for you and me," Sirius beamed. "As you know by now, the Black family is very old and very wealthy. There was plenty of money just collecting dust in the family vaults at Gringotts, so I thought it was about time I put that money to good use. Besides, Grimmauld Place is no place for a sixteen-year-old boy to spend his summer! You need fresh air and wide open spaces! I bought this house and all of the land you can see, so we don't have to worry about pesky neighbors," Sirius paused as he took the scenery for another minute. "What do you think?"

"What do I think?" Harry exclaimed, his excitement brimming over. "This is so … I can't even think of the words … it's amazing! I really can't believe it! So we're going to be living here?"

"We need another day or two to finish updating the security measures, but yes! We're going to be living here!" Sirius answered, drinking in the sight of his overjoyed godson. With that, he stood up, brushed the grass off of his trousers, then reached down to give Harry a hand standing up. "Come on," Sirius urged with a smile. "Let's take a look around."

Harry followed his godfather through the front door of the house and into the grand foyer. From the little bit Harry had seen so far, this house suited his godfather perfectly. It was spacious without being ostentatious and masculine without feeling heavy and dark. Quite the opposite of Grimmauld Place, really. The grand staircase stretched up three floors and each external wall was littered with enormous windows providing expansive views of the beautiful landscape. Sirius led Harry up the grand staircase, to the second floor, then down the long hallway to the last door on the left. He put his hand on the doorknob then paused as he turned to Harry. "I was thinking this could be your room. If you like it, of course," he added self-consciously.

As Sirius pushed the door open, Harry's mouth dropped immediately. The room was almost the size of the entire downstairs of Privet Drive. The floors were covered in deep cherry red wood and the walls were made of the same stone covering the outside of the house. Pictures of players from Harry's favorite quidditch teams were hung up on the walls as well as photos of the places from around the world that he had always wanted to visit. A king sized canopy bed was up against one of the two interior walls and was covered with a dark blue satin comforter and more pillows than he had ever seen on one bed. He wasn't even tired, but just looking at that bed made him want to crawl beneath the sheets and revel in the warmth and comfort. A beautifully carved desk sat against the adjacent wall and was lined with cauldrons and quills and all the other supplies Sirius must have assumed Harry would need to complete his summer assignments. _Ugh, I don't even want to start thinking about summer assignments yet_, Harry thought, as he continued to make his way through the room. The two exterior walls were lined from floor to ceiling with windows that overlooked the hill they had just walked up, and in the distance he could see a lighthouse perched on the edge of the tall cliffs that stretched as wide as his view. A small door cut into the far left window led out onto what looked to be a private terrace filled with plants and a table and chair set. Tucked into the back corner of the room was a large fireplace with two worn leather couches and a plush rug placed just in front of it. As Harry walked closer he could see a collection of picture frames on the mantle but it wasn't until he was mere feet away that he noticed they were all pictures of his parents. Pictures that he had never seen before. Some were of his mum and dad when they were kids, some from their time at Hogwarts, and even a few wedding photos. But there was one picture that stood out above the rest. The largest of them all, sitting in the very middle of the mantle, was a picture of his parents, his mum wearing a simple cotton dress and his father a dark green shirt and slacks, both with smiles extending from ear to ear, holding a very tiny baby boy. Harry let out a small gasp.

"That was taken the day you were born," Harry heard a voice speak from behind him. He picked up the picture then turned around slowly.

"I've never seen these before," Harry said softly, as he brushed his thumb over the faces of his parents, unable to tear his eyes away from their smiles.

"No, I don't suspect you have," Sirius replied. From across the room, he walked over and gently placed one hand on Harry's shoulder and the other on the picture frame in Harry's hands. "I found these a few months ago when I was cleaning out some old boxes from the attic at Grimmauld Place. After you're parents died, and before my little confrontation with Peter Pettigrew," he added with a slight edge to his voice, "I went to Godric's Hollow to collect all of your parent's belongings that survived the attack. I was afraid that once word got out about what happened there, people might ransack the house in search of valuable mementos to sell. Tokens from that fateful night." Sirius paused for a moment, trying to push back down all the bad memories the thoughts of that night stirred up. "I put everything I collected into boxes and then hid them away. It took me almost sixteen years to find the courage to open them again, but I knew that as you grew older and more curious, you might want to know more about the kind of people your parents were, and I didn't think it was fair to keep all of this from you any longer."

"You mean there's more? More than this?" Harry asked, hope filling his eyes. He knew so little about his mum and dad and he clung to the few things he had to remember them by. A cloak from his father, and the scrapbook Hagrid gave him on his tenth birthday.

"Yea, about ten boxes more," Sirius replied, and Harry gasped again. "These pictures were in the top of the first box I opened. I started to look beneath them, but thought I should wait. I figured you might want to go through them together." He paused, waiting to see how Harry would respond.

"I … I'd like that very much," Harry stuttered, and tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. This was all becoming too much for him. From the house, to the pictures, to the room that was decorated so specifically for him. Never, in his entire life, had anyone shown this much care for him, and it was a little overwhelming. He couldn't help but feel he didn't deserve any of this. He didn't want to seem ungrateful, but he knew that he could never give Sirius, in a lifetime, what he had been given in the past two days.

"I can't, I'm sorry …" Harry spoke shakily, as he turned to walk from the room, but a hand grabbed him before he could take his first step.

"You can't what?" Sirius asked, confusion written all over his face.

"I can't accept this, any of this. It's just too much," Harry explained, his eyes not daring to meet his godfathers. "And I could never repay you."

"Hey, come here, cub" Sirius spoke, as an understanding washed over him. You don't get over years of pain and neglect with a single day of love and care. He pulled his godson into a tight hug, and then nuzzled his nose into the top of the boy's head. "You don't owe me anything. Do you understand me? This is a gift to you, because I love you."

Harry waivered a bit, as he tried to put into words exactly how he was feeling. "I'm just worried you'll get sick of me, and then you'll wish you hadn't gone to all of this trouble," Harry answered, feeling foolish for sounding like a little child.

"That will never happen, do you understand me?" Sirius asked, as he pulled the boy's face into his hands. "You're stuck with me whether you like it or not!" he added with a smirk.

Harry smiled as Sirius placed a fatherly kiss on his godson's forehead. Deep down he knew that what Sirius was telling him was the truth, but he just needed the reassurance of hearing it aloud.

"Come on," Sirius spoke up after a few moments. "There's one other thing I want to show you before we leave," he said, as he led Harry back out the door and down the hallway.

They exited the house through a door in the kitchen, and then continued down the opposite side of the hill they had climbed up earlier. They walked for a kilometer or two, through dense brush and meadows, until they came upon a river. The river, a murky blue color, was a few meters wide but only about a half a meter deep. Sirius sat down on one of the smooth rocks covering the banks and gestured toward Harry to join him.

"This," he said, pointing at the water, "was the reason I bought this property." Harry, not imaging how the beautiful hills and cliffs and the massive stone house were not enough to convince Sirius this was a worthy investment, looked confused.

"When I was a teenager your father and I started a tradition, a tradition that continued up until he died. Every year, on the first day of summer, he and I would meet at our favorite spot on the banks of the Eddleburg River - it was a small river that ran behind James' grandparents' house – to fish. The river was famous for its large trout. We would bring enough supplies to last us three or four days, and then we would spend those days fishing and talking and drinking – when we were of age, of course," Sirius added with a wink. "That was the first place your dad, when he was only eighteen, told me he wanted to marry your mother. It was even where he first told me Lily was pregnant with you. We had the best time those few days and those are some of my favorite memories," Sirius spoke, as he thought back to those days. There weren't too many times in his life that he could remember being truly happy, but those fishing trips were only ever filled with good memories. "This river is teeming with brown trout. The same kind we used to fish for. Do you know how to fish, Harry?" he asked, as he glanced over at his godson.

"No," Harry confessed embarrassingly. "No one ever taught me"

"Well," Sirius began, as he wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders, "we'll just have to change that. Won't we?" Harry smiled back at him.

The two sat there for a few more hours, pointing out large fish and catching up on everything that had happened since the last time they'd had a good chance to talk. It was nice, Harry thought, to have this one-in-one time with his godfather.

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At about half past six, Harry and Sirius apparated back to Grimmauld Place. The meeting wasn't set to start until seven, but most of the Order had already arrived. Tonks and Remus were in the living room talking quietly and enjoying some of the muffins Harry and Sirius had baked earlier that morning, while Dumbledore and the rest of the Order were congregating around the large table in the kitchen. Sirius joined the rest of the group in the kitchen, while Mrs. Weasley directed Harry up to one of the spare bedrooms where Ron and the rest of the Weasley children were waiting. Harry, once again upset at his continued exclusion from the business of the Order, grudgingly obliged.

As Harry approached the bedroom, he could hear the quite chatter of voices filtering in from the crack beneath the door. When he pushed the door open, he saw four redheads gathered around a box on a bed in the corner of the room. As soon as they heard the creak of the door opening, their heads shot up like prairie dogs and the box was violently shoved under the covers.

"Oh," Ron let out a loud sigh of relief. "It's just you."

"Erm, thanks?" Harry replied, feeling suddenly unwelcome.

"Oh no, not like that," Ron backtracked, and got up to give his best friend a hug. "It's just that Fred and George were just showing us one of their latest inventions and we didn't want Mum or Dad to know."

"So what is it?" Harry asked curiously, as the twins pulled the small box back out from underneath the covers. Fred opened the box to reveal a small bluebird and what looked like miniature horn-shaped speakers from an old phonograph.

"This, my dear friend, is an improvement to the Weasley Wizard Wheezes' line of Undetectable Detection Tools," George explained, with the ever-present mischievous grin on his face.

"Undetectable Detection? That's like a fancy way of saying 'spying', isn't it?" Harry asked amusingly, and the twins faked a guilty look.

"We prefer undetectable detection to spying, it sounds so much less … criminal," Fred answered, and the group couldn't help but laugh.

"You know how well spying worked last time," Harry reminded the group. "Crookshanks was hacking up pieces of rubber ear for a month!"

"Yes, but this latest invention is genius! It looks real enough to be real, doesn't it?" George asked, as he held the bird up to show the group.

If Harry was being honest, the fake bird was pretty convincing. "So how does it work?" he asked, as the twins stood up to give a demonstration.

"Well, you see, you charm the bird to fly in a certain area or follow a specific person, and whatever the bird 'hears' is played through these speakers." Fred sent the bird flying around the room, and they started to hear an identical version of their conversation being played through the small speakers. "As you can tell, the sound quality on this is much better than extendable ears, plus, since the bird will be in the room with them, we don't have to worry about bypassing any silencing spells. Like I said, it really is genius!" Fred explained, feeling pretty pleased with himself.

"Great," Harry responded, "but how do we get it in the room with them?"

"That is the other part to our magnificent plan. Before we came up, George opened a window in the kitchen for a little bit of 'fresh air'," Fred explained, "so all I have to do is send this bird outside, and she should be able to make her way into the kitchen. Shall we send her out for a test flight?" he asked.

"Let's do it," Ron answered, as George pulled out his wand and sent the bird down to the kitchen. Everyone gathered in a tight circle around the speakers. They listened intently as the bird flew through the window and landed in the kitchen. The first thing they could hear was the sound of paper swatting the air.

"_Kinglsey," Moody spoke, "Can you shut the damned window? Stupid birds are getting in."_

"_Not a problem, Mad-eye" Kingsley responded. _

They all let out the breath they had been holding, when they realized their clever little plan was actually working.

"_Sorry," Moody apologized._

"_Not at all," Dumbledore responded. "As I was saying, they've been guarding the vault for some time now. It's minimal security, only one Death Eater at a time, but it is definitely being guarded. To the best of my knowledge, this is where the cup is being hidden."_

"_Clearly they aren't expecting us to show up. We have the element of surprise. We go in under the guise of Polyjuice Potion, take out the Death Eater, and the Horcrux is ours," Tonks responded. _

"Horcrux?" Fred and George asked in unison, and sent a questioning glance to Ron and Harry.

Ron took a long look at Harry; the expression on his face was difficult to read. "I'll explain later," he answered, and they all hunched back over the speaker.

"_This isn't the wild west, Nymphadora" Moody replied. "We can't go in there guns blazing, as the muggles would say. We need a plan."_

"_Yes," Dumbledore spoke up again. "Alastor is quite right. Unfortunately, breaking into one of the oldest and deepest vaults in Gringotts is considerably more difficult that it might seem. However, I have devised a plan. What I need tonight are volunteers. Make no mistake, should Voldemort be alerted to what is happening the situation could become very complicated very quickly. I will require three additional people."_

"_You can count me in," Remus spoke up. _

"_Me as well," chimed Moody. _

"_And me," said Sirius with enthusiasm. "I'm itching to be a part of the action again."_

A shock wave blew through Harry. That was the last voice he expected to hear in this conversation.

"_Sirius," Remus addressed his best friend in a much quieter voice than he had been using earlier. "Are you sure that's wise?"_

"_Why wouldn't it be?" Sirius replied his voice laced with confusion._

"_Because of Harry, of course," Molly answered. "How do you think he's going to feel about his godfather putting himself in harms way. He only just moved in with you, for heaven's sake. I really think you ought to stay."_

"_Of course not," Sirius replied sternly. "Harry will understand. This is a part of being a member of the Order and he knows that. Risks must be taken to accomplish the ultimate goal, and he wants to see Voldemort destroyed just as badly as I do."_

"_I hate to say this, old friend, but I am inclined to agree with Molly," Remus responded._

"_Remus, it's fine," Sirius answered, attempting to smooth over the conversation. "Besides, if you'll allow him to come stay with you all, Molly, Harry will enjoy a home cooked meal and spending some time with Ron. He won't even notice I'm gone." _

"_If you sure," Dumbledore spoke questioningly._

"_I'm sure," Sirius responded. _

"_Alright, that's settled then. Now as far as access to the vault, I was thinking …"_

Harry couldn't listen any longer. For reasons he couldn't quite put into words, he felt deeply betrayed by his godfather. All those ideas from earlier about love and care flew right out the window. If Sirius was willing to throw everything away to join a fight that didn't need him, he couldn't love him that much.

Wanting some space to himself, Harry slid off the bed and walked quietly out the door. He could hear Ron calling for him but pretended not to notice. He walked down the stairs, past the kitchen, and into his temporary bedroom. Feeling the mounting pressure of a headache building, he drank one of the pain potions on his bedside table then sat on the bench built into the windowsill. He watched out the window as a small bee tried to extract pollen from the center of a bright orange daisy, and thought about the conversation he had just overheard. On one hand, he understood Sirius' desire to be a part of the action again but he hated how easy the decision seemed to be for his godfather. As if Sirius didn't give more than a seconds' thought as to how he might feel about this.

Harry suddenly began to feel very foolish. He realized, in that moment, that he had begun to need his godfather more than his godfather needed him. _Maybe our relationship isn't as important him_, Harry thought contradicted everything he had experienced in the past two days, but this was all so new to him and he really didn't know how to process everything just yet. He knew that he couldn't keep Sirius locked up forever but if he lost Sirius then he lost everything. And not just the new house with the fancy room and rolling hills but he'd loose the closest thing to a father he'd ever known. To him, that was unbearable. Moments later he heard a knock on the door. It was his godfather.

"Meetings over, pup."

Harry kept his back to him and didn't answer. He needed to sort out his emotions before he was ready to have a conversation with Sirius.

"Everyone's just about gone now. You want to come into the kitchen for some dinner?" Sirius asked.

"No, I think I'll just go to bed soon," Harry answered, as he moved from the windowsill over to his trunk. He pulled out a pair of flannel pajamas and a t-shirt and laid them on the bed.

"Harry, it's only nine o'clock. Surely you can't be tired yet. Besides, Madame Pompfrey will have my head if I willingly let you skip a meal."

"Please stop pretending like you care," Harry mumbled softly.

"I'm sorry, what?" Sirius responded, a shocked look on his face.

"Nothing," Harry answered, as he took his bag of toiletries out from his trunk.

"Harry, is everything alright?" Sirius asked, trying his best to decipher his godson's strange behavior.

"I'm fine," Harry replied curtly. "Would you mind leaving me alone for a little while?"

"Um … sure," Sirius answered. He couldn't understand what might have prompted such an immediate change in Harry's mood, but he didn't want to question Harry's need for some time alone. He backed out of the doorway and started to walk down the hallway, but turned around. "I almost forgot," he said as he poked his head back in Harry's room. "You'll be spending the tomorrow with the Weasleys so you might want to pack a bag tonight. We'll have to leave early in the morning."

Unable to contain his irritation any longer, the truth burst from his lips. "I know," Harry told his godfather.

"You know what?" Sirius asked, puzzled.

"I know where you're going tomorrow and don't act like it's no big deal," Harry responded with anger.

"First of all," Sirius responded, "it isn't a big deal. And second, how did you find out?"

"Never assume a conversation is private when the Weasley twins are around."

Sirius rolled his eyes. He should have known. "Is this what's bothering you?" he asked, not really understanding why this was upsetting Harry so much.

Harry, now feeling very self-conscious, began picking at the tufts of cotton protruding from a small hole in the comforter on the bed. "It's just that, things are really starting to work out here, and I really don't want anything to happen to you."

"Harry, nothing is going to happen to me. This is a routine mission and …"

"Well if it's so routine," Harry interrupted, "then why can't someone else go in your place?"

"Because this is important, pup, and they need me," Sirius explained.

"No they don't. And don't call me that," Harry added defensively. "They got on just fine without you for the past sixteen years, they can get on just fine without you now."

"Harry, why are you saying these things?" Sirius asked, as he positioned himself directly in front of Harry.

"Because," Harry started, finding it uncomfortable to put his feelings into words. "You're willing to throw away everything for revenge. You're willing to throw away me. And I don't understand why," he added defeatedly. Harry took a step back and sat down on the bed, putting his head in his hands and using his thumbs to massage his temples. The pain behind his eyes was roaring now and he felt so foolish for acting like an insecure little boy around his godfather. But he felt his feelings were justified.

Sirius knelt down in front of his godson and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Harry, you are, and always will be, the most important thing in my life. But …"

"Then please don't go," Harry interrupted. "I'm begging you."

"Harry, I need this. I know you don't understand. I love you, and nothing will ever change that, but I need to do this."

"If you loved me than you wouldn't go," Harry spoke softly, his eyes glued to the floor. He knew it was a cruel thing to say, but he was desperate.

"Harry, that's not fair," Sirius responded, as he stood back up. "You can't expect me to hide out in this house forever. I wasn't built to sit back and let others join the action; I was built to fight. And I intend to."

Harry, knowing this conversation wouldn't end the way he hoped, didn't respond. After a long moment of silence, Sirius made his way back to the door and whispered "Goodnight," to his godson before retreating to his own room.

Part of Sirius understood why his godson felt the way he did, but he knew that Harry didn't understand how much this fight meant to him. It had claimed the lives of so many people who meant so much to him. So many people who, if they were to fail in their pursuit of Voldemort, would have died in vain. Sirius refused to let that happen.

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**Alright, this ended up being a good break for this chapter. There was something else I really wanted to get to in this chapter, but it was already getting long so I decided to cut it off. Please, please, please, please leave me a review and let me know what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: **Things start to pick up a bit in this chapter, so I hope y'all like it. I'd like to say another big thank you to those of you who reviewed the last chapter and sent me messages. It would be great to get a little more feedback on what y'all think of this story so far, especially for this chapter. My number of reads to reviews ratio is near a thousand, so it'd be great to hear from more of you out there! Even if you never review, though, I still appreciate your taking the time to read my little story!

Also, for the history books, I'd like to make a record of the fact that I wrote most of this chapter while I sat outside the control center in Cape Canaveral, FL for the launch of Atlantis, the final mission of the Space Shuttle program! It was epic! *cough* giant nerd *cough*

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Sirius woke the next morning with that exhausted feeling of not having gotten much rest, despite hours of sleep. He couldn't get the conversation he and Harry had last night off his mind. He was firm on his stance to join the fight, but hated the feeling of disappointing his godson. The sun was just rising out the window beside his bed and he knew Harry wouldn't be awake for a few more hours. He made his way over to the bathroom to wash his face, then pulled the covers back over the bed, throwing the pillows haphazardly in front of the headboard, before getting dressed for the day.

As he walked down the stairs, he froze at the sound of a tea kettle's whistle coming from the kitchen. He withdrew his wand, and then cautiously turned the corner into the room the sound was coming from. One moment before he was planning to cast a freezing charm on the intruder, he recognized the shaggy brown hair and diagonal scars adorning the face of his closest friend.

"Remus, dear friend, you almost gave me a heart attack!" Sirius exclaimed, as he clutched his chest over his wildly beating heart. "What are you doing in my kitchen at this hour of the morning?"

Remus, who was reading that morning's Daily Prophet, set the paper down and walked to the stove to remove the kettle. "I came to see how Harry took the news of your planned adventure tonight," he spoke, as he poured two cups of tea.

Sirius plopped himself into the chair adjacent from Remus' and placed his head in his hands. "Not well. Not well at all, I'm afraid."

"I told you that last night," Remus responded, as he placed a cup of steaming hot tea on the table in front of Sirius.

"Thanks," Sirius spoke, as he took a long sip of the beverage. "I wasn't really planning on telling him, but the Weasley twi …"

"Now you can't possible imagine that would have gone over well," Remus interrupted, as he sat back down in his chair. "One way or another he was going to find out, and it would have been much worse if he found out you were hiding it from him."

"I just didn't think he'd care so much," Sirius answered honestly.

"But of course he does, you fool! How could he not?" Remus said, exasperatedly. Sirius looked back at his friend, bewildered.

"Sirius, you are the closest thing to a father Harry has ever known. Imagine what it would do to him if something ever happened to you," Remus gave the thought for Sirius to ponder.

"I mean," Sirius started, a little bit unsure of himself. "I think he'd be okay. He has you, and the Weasleys and the Grangers. Between all of you he has enough family for a hundred people!"

"Yes that's true," Remus spoke softly, almost amused by his old friend's ignorance. "But out of all of us, **you **are the one he wants most." Remus had no problem admitting this, because he knew it was the honest truth. He and the Weasleys and the Grangers would always be there for Harry, no matter what, but Sirius would always come first in the boy's heart.

"It's strange, Remus, last night he was acting so … I don't know how to describe it … needy, maybe?" Sirius thought aloud, although "needy" didn't seem quite right.

"I think you're mistaking neediness for vulnerability," Remus responded, as he set his mug back onto the table and looked into his friend's eyes. "We're talking about a boy who spent the first ten years of his life being neglected by the people who were supposed love him. No one to read to him when he was sick, or kiss his band aids when he scrapped his knees, or comfort him when he was scared. Nothing but neglect, and the feeling of being completely unwanted." Remus could tell the words he was speaking were cutting straight to his best friend's heart. "Now we both know Harry. To any outsider, he would seem like a perfectly adjusted, well mannered, albeit slightly rebellious, young teenager. But you don't just erase that kind of damage. Deep inside, Harry is struggling, and he is desperate for someone that he knows he can count on and trust. Someone who will love him, despite his faults, and never reject him." Remus paused and let the words wash over his friend. "He needs a father."

"It's all my fault, " Sirius said guiltily. "I should have been there for him all those years ago, after James and Lily ..." his speech trailed off. Sixteen years later, and he still held a heart full of regret over the mistakes he'd made. At the time, nothing seemed more important than revenge, but he had failed to consider what it all meant to the sweet little infant who had just lost his parents. There were few happy memories that the dementors hadn't deprived him of during his twelve-year stay in the wizarding prison, but the look on James' face when he first saw his baby boy was a sight nothing would ever be able to take from him. And he threw away any chance he had of protecting that boy from the horrors of the world that night he went after the traitor, Peter Pettigrew.

"No, it's not your fault," Remus spoke reassuringly, as he reached out to grab his friend's hand, shaking him from his memories. "And there's nothing you can do to change the past. But you can change the future. Harry is looking to you to be that father figure and you need to either accept that responsibility or cut your ties now. Harry can't handle any more pain in his life. He's already had enough to last ten lifetimes. But accepting that responsibility means you put Harry above all else, even yourself." Remus finished, hoping Sirius knew what he was trying to imply.

"Remus, I absolutely want that responsibility. There's nothing I want more in this world. Harry is everything to me," Sirius paused for a moment. "I guess I didn't realize I meant that much to him."

Remus stared at his friend, dumbfounded. He couldn't tell if Sirius was completely ignorant, or just that naïve. That boy clung to his godfather like a shadow, and in the past year, even his handwriting had subconsciously shifted to mimic Sirius'.

"And I guess," Sirius began again, "that means I won't be joining the Order tonight. Or any other night for awhile." He hated that he would be standing down from the fight, but he was starting to realize how much more important it was for him to be with Harry. The look on Remus' face was further confirmation that he had made the right choice.

"I think that's an excellent idea, old friend," Remus said with a huge grin, and removed his hand from his friends'. He stood up from the table and made his way back to the fireplace. "Well, I believe my work here is done. I'll go inform Dumbledore we'll be needing that replacement for tonight, and you enjoy the day with your godson!"

"You knew I'd change my mind, didn't you?" Sirius asked with a mischievous grin on his face, as he ushered him toward the mantle.

"Not exactly," Remus answered honestly, "but I know you, and I knew you'd do what was right in the end."

"Well, thanks for talking some sense in to me, old friend," Sirius said, as he handed Remus a handful of floo powder.

"Anytime, old chap!" Remus replied, as he slapped a dusty hand onto his friend's shoulder and then disappeared through the ash.

Sirius brushed the soot from his jacket and sat down on the sofa nearest the fireplace. It hadn't really dawned on him how big of a responsibility he had accepted when he agreed to be Harry's new guardian, but he was starting to get the picture now. Any nerves he had over the situation were quickly overshadowed by the fear that he wouldn't be able to live up to whatever expectations Harry had for him.

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Harry awoke a few hours later with another blinding headache. The potion he drank before he fell asleep quickly wore off in the night, and his dreams were filled with pain that was partially fueled by his conversation with Sirius the night before. Unable to calm to storm raging in his head he downed two of Madame Pompfrey's pain potions, then gently eased his head back onto the inviting pillow. He had never taken two pain potions at the same time, but the headaches were getting to the point of being unbearable. He stayed that way for another few minutes, scared to move any part of his body for fear the movement would bring with it an onslaught of pain, and when he was sure the worst was over, he carefully stood up and began getting dressed. He had been taking these potions consistently for the past few days, and he was worried their potency was starting to wear off. Hoping to find something a little bit stronger on his next trip to Diagon Alley, Harry tried to push the issue to the back of his mind and began packing for the day. Remembering that he would be spending most of the day with the Weasleys, he shoved a spare change of clothes into his rucksack. You never knew what to expect around the Weasley twins, so it was always best to come prepared.

Once he was packed and the room tidy, he made his way down the hallway and into the kitchen. He was not looking forward to seeing his godfather this morning, but he knew he couldn't put off facing him any longer. They would need to leave for the Burrow relatively soon so that Sirius could make it to the headmaster's office in enough time to meet up with Dumbledore and the rest of the Order members participating in the raid. He summoned a little bit of courage and walked into the kitchen, avoiding all eye contact with his godfather, and began preparing a piece of toast for himself.

"What, no 'good morning'?" his godfather asked amusingly, as he watched Harry go about his usual routine. Sirius had taken to reading the Daily Prophet that Remus discarded a few hours before, but set it down when his godson walked in. There was nothing in the paper worth reading that morning.

"I'm not in the mood today," Harry answered grumpily. "I've got my bag all packed for the Burrow, so just let me know when you want me to leave. I'm ready any time," he finished, as he stood by the kitchen door and ate the last few bites of his toast. His eyes never rose above the table.

Sirius could tell that the walls Harry built around himself which, last night, had begun to crumble, were now firmly back in place. This closed off Harry was not the Harry he liked best, but he knew that it was the Harry he deserved right now. It was no surprise to Sirius that he could be quite selfish, that was a trait James and Remus had pointed out in him many times, but he had to remember he was no longer dealing with his best friends. Harry was different. Harry was much more sensitive.

"Harry, come sit down, please," Sirius urged, as he pulled the chair beside him out from the table.

He hesitated for a moment and then walked back over to the table and sat down.

"Harry, the things I said last night were … well, they were foolish," Sirius began, searching for the proper words. Harry was wringing his hands and still avoiding looking directly at his godfather. "Harry, please look at me," Sirius urged, and Harry's eyes slowly rose to meet his godfathers'. "Listen, I'm sorry I didn't think more about how that decision would affect you."

"It's fine," Harry said, cutting his godfather off. "Fighting is important to you, so you should go," he finished, trying not to show his godfather how deeply hurt he actually was.

"Harry, if you truly believed that, you wouldn't have gotten so worked up last night," Sirius responded.

"I didn't get worked up last night. I was just tired … and stuff," Harry answered, unconvincingly. It wasn't true, of course. He was upset. But the more he thought about that conversation the more embarrassed he felt for acting so childish and clingy, and he would rather just forget the whole thing happened.

"Harry, just listen to me, please. My whole life, I've only ever been responsible for one person, myself. Hell, I'm the consummate bachelor! It's going to take a little bit of time to adjust to having another person in my life."

"Well you don't have to, you know," Harry answered defensively, as he squeezed the bridge of his nose. His headache was building again, and the fear of having to return to number 4 Privet Drive was not helping the pain. "I'm sure the Dursleys would take me back. I mean, it might take some convincing from Dumbl …" Harry continued, as the panic began to rise in his chest.

"Harry, stop!" Sirius interrupted, as he placed his hands on his godson's shoulders. "Calm down. You're not going anywhere." He watched as Harry's body visibly relaxed. "There's no question that I want you with me. All I'm saying is that it's going to take me some time to get the hang of things, cub," but this time Harry didn't flinch at the nickname. "I'm not going to be perfect, but I'm going to do my best."

"You don't have to be perfect," Harry replied softly, and Sirius smiled at this. Harry had disturbingly low expectations for his guardians.

"Remus has gone to find a replacement for my position in the raid tonight. I'm going to be taking more of a sideline roll in the Order for awhile, at least until you and I have had the chance to settle down a bit."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked hesitantly. As much as he appreciated it, he didn't want his godfather to resent him a month or two down the road for not getting to be in the thick of things.

"Without a doubt," Sirius smirked, and ruffled the back of Harry's hair. "Now," he started, as he stood up from his chair, "here comes the fun part. You and I have to sort through the things in this house and figure out what we do and don't want to take with us when we move."

"Ughhh," Harry replied, as he slowly stood up. This place was huge, and it would take them months to sort through everything in it. His head was throbbing, and he was definitely not in the mood for this today.

"No worries," Sirius responded, seeing the unenthusiastic look on his godson's face. "There are only a few things in this house I really care about, and the rest is all rubbish. But some of the furniture might come in handy. It shouldn't take very long."

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They had been packing for the better part of the afternoon, and Harry felt like the process would never end. _So much for 'shouldn't take very long',_ he thought, as he stared at the boxes that were piled up in the living room. He was enjoying listening Sirius regale him with stories of his childhood, it seemed like every little object had some memory attached, but the ache in his head just wouldn't subside, and he desperately wanted more potion and a nap. He was doing his best not to show just how much pain he was in, but he wasn't sure if he was doing a very good job. The back of his neck had started to ache, and dizziness would periodically force him to try and inconspicuously lean up against a chair for support. When they finally made it to the last room, Harry was relieved. It was Harry's temporary bedroom, but more importantly the bedroom of Sirius' beloved little sister.

"I was thinking," Sirius began, his back to his Harry, "I would like to take all of this furniture and recreate this room in our new house. Maybe as a guestroom of some sort?" he asked, as he moved to inspect the condition of the armoire on the far side of the room. "This furniture is fairly old and really hasn't been taken care of, but we could fix it up." Not hearing any encouraging words from his godson, Sirius started to second-guess the idea. "I don't know, maybe it's a silly idea," he thought aloud. The things in this bedroom were the only physical connection he still had to his little sister, and he didn't want to loose that when they moved.

Harry was trying desperately to focus on what his godfather was saying, knowing that this was important to Sirius, but at that moment a burst of pain shot through his head and it took every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep from screaming out. He slapped a hand across his mouth to stifle any sound that tried to escape and concentrated on trying to ignore the pain. He leaned his back against the wall for support and closed his eyes hoping the dizziness would pass quickly. But he could feel his legs shaking, ready to give out at any moment, and he slid his back down the wall. As soon as he reached the ground, something wet began sliding down his upper lip and through the small part in his mouth. The substance had a distinctly metallic taste. Harry reached a hand up to wipe the liquid from under his nose, and it came back a deep crimson red. Panic began to well up in him at the sight of his blood-covered hand, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest._ Oh no, _Harry thought, _it's happening again_, and all he could think about was how much he did not want his godfather to see him right now. He tried to shuffle his body through the doorway to his left, but couldn't make him limbs coordinate the movement. He was stuck there, frozen in pain, a bloody, shaking, mess.

"What do you think?" Sirius asked, his back still turned to his godson. After another moment with no response, Sirius turned around. "Harry?" he asked, but he could no longer see the teenager. "Harry?" he asked again, as he walked over to where the boy was standing only moments before. Harry wasn't responding to his calls but was instead sitting on the floor with his head between his knees and hands pressed against his temples. Sirius could see he was trembling, and tentatively reached out a hand to soothe the boy. "Harry, what's going on?" Sirius yelled, his voice shaking with fear, and he could see the boy's whole body tense up with pain.

"Shhhh," Harry cried out weakly. He didn't have the energy to lift his head and look at his godfather. "Hurts…" His hands were shaking as he moved them from his head, to cover his ears, desperate to block out the noise that was only adding to his agony.

"What hurts?" Sirius asked. There was panic in his voice, but he was trying to keep his voice as low as possible. "Is it your scar? Is it Voldemort again?" he asked, as he brushed a hand across the boy's forehead. But there was no answer. Harry just sat there, his fingernails digging into the sides of his head. "Harry, please talk to me!" he spoke again, this time a little too loudly, and still there was no response. "Harry, I need you to answer me. I need to know what's wrong!"

"Shhhh," Harry cried out again, as tears began to stream down the sides of his cheeks. His forehead was still nuzzled in the gap between his knees, and his whole body was trembling. Sirius, unable to stand it any longer, lifted the boy's head up and froze at what he saw. Blood was pouring out of his godson's nose, and his eyes were glazed and unfocused. The sudden movement proved to be too much for Harry, and he leaned as far to the side as he could manage before threw up everything he had eaten that day. Thankfully for Sirius, whose left leg had taken the brunt of the impact, it wasn't much.

"S … s … sorry," Harry squeaked out as he scrunched his eyes closed. The pain was only getting worse, and he didn't think he'd be able to manage staying conscious much longer. He began to slowly close his eyelids, but was shaken out of his reverie by the screams of his godfather. "Harry! Harry, look at me," Sirius yelled, no longer caring if he was causing his godson undue pain. "Harry, you have to look at me," the voice kept repeating, but Harry had no energy left. All he wanted to do was fade away from this pain and into blissful unconsciousness. Sirius had his hands on either side of Harry's face and was gently massaging his fingers into the boy's scalp. "Harry, look at me right now," Sirius shouted, much louder than before, and the boy's eyes opened lazily. His vision was hazy, but he could just make out the petrified eyes of his godfather, and concentrated on keeping his focus latched to them. "Listen, we're going to the hospital right now, but I need you to stay with me until we get there, okay?" Sirius asked, knowing full well the boy wouldn't respond. He had no idea what was happening to his godson, but he feared that if the boy went to sleep he might never wake up.

Sirius stood up, wiped his shaking bloody hands on his trousers, and then reached down to pick up his trembling godson. The boy had put on a few pounds since the school year began, but he was still much too light. As Harry was being lifting from the ground, a gut-wrenching scream burst from his lips and the pain in his scar exploded. Before his hand could reach his forehead, he was back inside the mind of his worst enemy …

##### _Sparks of curses were flying at him from every direction, and a large iridescent shield was immediately erected as protection from the onslaught. Voldemort was in the midst of a firefight, and Harry could tell the Death Eaters had the upper hand. The walls all around were lined with shelves and shelves full of treasure, and they extended as far as his eyes could see. There were silver statues, an emerald necklace, a sword, and more gold coins than Harry could possibly count. _

A vault, _ Harry thought,_ _as the battle raged on around him, _we must be inside of the Lestrange vault. _The details of the Order's raid came back to him. He could see Remus at the far right of his field of vision fighting off three of the Death Eaters, while Dumbledore established a protective barrier in front of himself and Tonks and aimed a spray of hexes at the swarm of Voldemort's supporters closing in. Tonks was racing up the side of a large bookcase and had just clasped her fingers around the base of a golden cup when a large blast knocked the bookcase over. The trio was outnumbered and overwhelmed. Nymphadora picked herself up from beneath the bookcase, then made a run for the vault door. _

"Get her!" _Voldemort yelled. "_Don't let her get away!"_ Harry could feel a rush of fear welling up inside of his temporary body, and the voice coming from it was screaming with panic. _

_Every Death Eater now concentrated his spell on the woman holding the small gold cup. Remus, suddenly realizing they were retreating, ran to meet the others at the door and Dumbledore released his shield to allow Remus to pass. Just before he could form the shield again one killing curse passed through. ###_

The connection between their two minds slammed shut before Harry could see who received the curse, and he felt something snap in his head as everything went blank.

Sirius watched helplessly as his godson jerked out of his arms and collapsed into a heap on the ground, his trembling now giving way to a fit of convulsions. Harry's head was slamming violently into the cold stone floor and a small amount of liquid was pooling under the seat of his trousers. _Seizure_, Sirius thought, his mind reeling from the events of the past few minutes. _He's having a seizure!_ He scrambled to the floor to calm the flailing teenager. Almost instinctively, he grabbed the nearest pillow off of the bed and shoved it under Harry's head, then rolled him onto his side so that he wouldn't choke on the blood that was still pouring from his nose. He held down Harry's arms and legs to keep the boy from injuring himself further, and prayed that the fit would pass quickly. He could feel the teenager struggling beneath him. Thankful that Harry was now laying on his side, Sirius watched as the last contents of his stomach were released from his mouth, staining the pillow beneath his head. Sirius leaned over to make sure the boy was still breathing, but during the distraction one arm broke loose from Sirius' grasp. He winced as he heard the crack of bone breaking across the post of the bed sitting only inches from where they lay. Careful not to cause any further injury, Sirius gently recaptured the arm and held it across the boy's chest, then moved him into the middle of the room, away from any other furniture. He watched helplessly as his godson struggled beneath his grasp, then after what felt like an eternity, the seizure calmed back into tremors which, after a few more minutes, gave way to stillness.

Sirius, confident this episode has passed, carefully eased himself off of his godson, then placed a pillow beneath the boy's newly broken arm. He gathered his unconscious godson into his arms and gently placed him up on the messily made bed. Torn with the desire to rush the boy off to St. Mungo's immediately, Sirius wasn't sure if Harry would be physically capable of surviving a trip through the floo network. He had no idea what triggered the episode he had just witnessed, and he was terrified of doing anything more to hurt the boy. The stillness of the boy laying on his late sister's bed was completely unnerving. A long trail of dried blood snaked from beneath his nose, down his chin, and onto his chest, where Sirius could barely see it rise and fall with each unsteady breath. He wasn't sure if the boy had just fallen asleep, or if he was unconscious, or if he had slipped into some type of coma, but after a few moments of sheer terror, he saw a small twitch forming in the Harry's left hand. Proof that the boy was beginning to regain consciousness. His eyes were still closed, but when Sirius leaned in closely, he could hear a soft hiss emanating from the boy's lips. Harry was trying to speak.

"Shhh," Sirius whispered, as he smoothed back the hair from the boy's sweat-soaked forehead. Tears of fear and frustration were streaming down Sirius' face at the horrible feeling of not knowing what to do to help his godson. "Don't try to talk, Harry," he said softly. "We're going to get you some help, okay?" but the boy was unresponsive to his pleas. Sirius stood up to send a fire call to Madame Pompfrey, but felt a weak hand grab his arm. Harry's eyes were still closed, but Sirius understood the gesture. Aware that Harry did not want to be left alone in this moment, Sirius lifted up the boy's limp torso and scooted onto the bed beneath him, laying Harry's shoulders back down across his lap, and cradling his head in his arms. He placed two fingers on the boys wrist and felt around for the weak heartbeat. There was no question, the boy needed a healer immediately.

"Harry, look at me," but still he had no luck. "Harry, I know you're hurting, but I don't want to move you until I know it's safe. I need to call Madame Pompfrey so she can tell me what to do," Sirius continued, but received another squeeze from the hand resting on his arm. Not getting any other type of response, Sirius began to move out from underneath the boy, but was aware of Harry's mouth still trying to form unintelligible words.

"T … t … tr … p …" Harry tried to speak after several failed attempts, but was becoming increasingly frustrated with his inability to string syllables together properly. He was afraid of not being able to warn Sirius in time to save the Order, so he tried his best to push through the pain and confusion. "Tr … p … tra …" he began again, but he was beyond the point of exhaustion. He knew he couldn't sleep until Sirius heard what he had seen in Voldemort's mind, but there was a dense fog hanging over his mind, threatening to overwhelm him.

Sirius stared confusingly at his godson, trying desperately to comprehend what Harry was trying to say but not having much success. Harry's scar was inflamed, an angry shade of red, and in that instant Sirius knew that what he had just witnessed was Harry receiving one of his infamous visions from The Dark Lord. Something clicked in Sirius' mind, and he realized the boy was trying to tell him what he had seen.

Determined to get his point across, Harry continued, "cux … hor .. cux … tra … t … p …" Harry knew the words he was trying to say, but for some reason he couldn't get the message from his brain to his mouth. The words weren't coming out in the proper order.

"Horcrux? Trap? Harry, are you talking about the mission?" Sirius guessed, doing his best to decipher the jumbled sounds coming from his godson. Harry nodded his head weakly and continued to mutter the same syllables. "The mission is a trap? Is that what you're trying to say?" and Harry tried to nod his head again but found the effort more than he could bare. Relieved to have gotten his point across, Harry surrendered to unconsciousness.

Seeing the boy's eyes roll back into his head, Sirius jumped into action. He knew that he needed to get Harry to a hospital quickly, but he also needed to warn Dumbledore. If what Harry was saying was true, there could be other lives at stake. Lives that may already be too late to save. Sirius knew there was no time to spare and, no longer having the luxury of waiting to find out if it was safe to do so, he swept Harry up into his arms, careful not to jar Harry's newly broken arm, and ran for the fireplace. Struggling with which problem to attend to first, Sirius made up his mind and prayed he wouldn't regret it. "Hogwarts - Headmaster's Office," he spoke, then the two disappeared in a flash.

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**Alright, I really struggled with this chapter, so please let me know what y'all thought! **


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